Fate of Frailty
by Karen Hart
Summary: PreXenosaga. In which we see the events that led up to the creation of the Kukai Foundation as we know it today. Rated T for the first chapter, and swearing in following ones. Comments appreciated. Chapter 25 is up.
1. First Meeting

**Fate of Frailty**

By Karen Hart

_Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of the Xenosaga series. I write these fanfictions for love of the game, and make no money off of them._

_Soft_. It was her first thought, as her mind began the ascent into consciousness. _Sore_, was the next. She cracked her eyes open, knowing before she did that this was most definitely not her little cubbyhole of a room. The bed was too soft. The constant, overwhelming sense of dread was no longer present, either, though it was replaced by something almost as daunting. And, it _felt_ bigger, somehow.

She was right on the third count, she realized, once her eyes had adjusted to the light. It was bigger than the room she'd shared with her sister… Her sister! Blue eyes darted around frantically, vision finally landing on a slender, lavender-haired figure. So she was here, too. She fell back, relieved. Her sister had always been the one true constant in her life.

_Where are we…?_ The question rang in her young mind like an alarm, as she tried to think back to the last time that she'd been conscious.

_It'd been during what she termed First Shot, just after Second Meal. There'd been the familiar pinprick against her arm, pharmaceuticals flooding her blood stream, when someone had burst into the room, furious. She had not looked at who it was, though she realized the voice was male. There was something about how "they" had found out about them, and that they'd face prison if they didn't do something._

_"We knew this was going to happen—all right, get everything hidden away. We've all run this drill before, we should be able to pull this off. We'll need to either move or destroy the test subjects. Can't have them found; they'd make better evidence against us than the actual drugs. –What are you doing_ standing _there?_ Move_!" The "doctor" who'd been holding her still (an unnecessary action, given that she'd been too weak and obedient to try to escape) abruptly released his grip, and began dismantling equipment, reassembling them in such a way that they could no longer be properly identified. They had, after all, planned for this day. The doctor looked up again, at the unmoving tech. "Out! Disguise whatever you can, hide or destroy what you can't. And take her with you!" The tech did as he was told._

_It'd gone on like that for the next few hours, people rushing back and force, machinery and equipment hidden or disguised, but never outright destroyed. She herself had been dragged from room to room, more exertion than she'd ever experience at that point in her short life, while people hurriedly discussed the fate of "Subject 145". Termination, they had all agreed, the subject almost too weak to handle any more tests. Disposal would've occurred soon, anyway._

_It'd take several years before she fully understood what'd happened next. One moment she was on the termination bench, the next, there were shouts and she was forgotten. There were people in strange uniforms with guns, people shouting orders. What was "criminal abuse"?_

She shook her head. There was nothing after that. She must've fallen asleep at that point.

_That still doesn't tell me where we are…_

She shrank back against the bed.

---

"How are they?" Lieutenant General Helmer asked quietly, gesturing with brown eyes at the partially closed door beside them.

The nurse looked at him with a worried expression, lips pursed. "The older one seems to be fairly healthy, but the blonde…she's malnourished, suffering from chemical shock, she's got bruises everywhere—and she's so weak. I swear, some of the stuff we have to do most kids protest quite vocally, but I don't think she even has the strength to cry. What could possess _anyone_ to do this to a child?" The question was hissed bitterly, arms crossing against the woman's chest.

"Money," was Helmer's terse reply.

"Sir?" was the nurse's appalled response, though she knew that he was correct. Money was one of those few things that could make a person lose their humanity, and turn them into cruel, heartless monsters.

"Are either of them fit for visitors, yet?" Helmer changed the subject.

"I'd say the older one is, but they're both asleep. Why?"

"Well, we've got enough evidence to put everyone who was part of that whole sordid operation to jail for a good long while, but it's these two girls' testimony that'll be the real clincher. Unfortunately, it's going to involve some more tests, and you can about guess how well that'd go over."

"I see…" She did. "Well, wait until tomorrow afternoon. This isn't the type of thing you should spring on someone in the middle of the night, after all."

"I'll talk to her," a third voice piped up. The owner of the voice was a young red-haired boy who'd seemed utterly absorbed in the book he'd been reading, and the nurse had managed to forget about his presence. "I know you won't try to put any pressure on them or anything like that, but you're both an adult _and_ an authority figure. You'd be pretty daunting to a couple of little girls. I'll talk to 'em." He returned to his book.

---

Daylight.

It seemed like a entirely different room, with light and sound pouring in through the window. Her sister was up, too, trying to convince herself to eat a bit of the meal that'd been given her, but it was fairly bland fare. A knock sounded on the door. She turned her head, expression quizzical.

There was a strange boy in the doorway. "Can I come in?" She nodded, and he entered the room, finally perching on the edge of her bed. "Name's Rubedo," he said, by way of introduction.

"Sub—"

"I'm Shelley, she's Mary," the older girl replied, cutting off her younger sibling.

"Nice meeting you." Rubedo smiled, though the expression was not returned. He let out a small sigh, and continued, explaining the situation to them.

"So," Shelley replied slowly, after she'd thought over everything that he'd told them, "you need to do some more tests to figure out what they did to us specifically, and that'll put the company out of business forever? And none of the techs and doctors will ever be able to…?" Rubedo nodded, somewhat impressed at the maturity of this little girl, albeit sadly. "And if things don't work out."

"They will!" he assured her fervently. "There isn't a jury in the Federation that'd let them get away with…! Huh?"

The blonde—Mary—had moved up beside him, and taken hold of his right arm. "Where are your marks?" she asked, placing her own bruised limb next to his.

Rubedo smiled. "I don't have any. Listen, those tests. All we really need is a couple of blood tests, and you'll have to speak in court for a bit, explain what's happened to you."

"Why us?" Shelley asked. She was a sharp one.

"Because even though it's callous to say it like this, you're two little girls who've been horribly abused, and if there's anything people can't stand, it's little girls who've been abused."

Shelley looked at him, confused. "Abused…?"

The red-haired boy shot upwards, gesturing wildly. "Yeah! I mean, look at you two. You're bruised, I swear you're thin as wire, you've had drugs pumped into you…you know, _abused_!"

"That's not…normal?" Mary asked, confused. It was all she'd known.

"No!" The word exploded from Rubedo's lips, propelled by shock. A thought occurred to him. "Listen…"

"Yes?" both girls responded in perfect unison.

"After all the legal stuff happens, you'll need to go somewhere, right? Like back to your family, right?" They stared at him blankly. "Well, it might take a while, so why don't you stay with Gaignun and me for a while?"

"Gaignun?" Mary, this time.

"My brother. You can't live in the hospital, and you really shouldn't end up in an adoption house or something…" He trailed off. Had he been right to offer?

"There won't be any shots, there?" Again, it was Mary who asked.

"No, there won't."

"And me and Shelley won't be separated?"

"Again, no."

They were silent for a while, Shelley and Mary seemingly in some sort of silent communication. Then Mary spoke up.

"…We'll do it." She leaned against him, as if just coming to the decision was exhausting. He found he didn't mind all that much.

"You will?"

"…yeah."

It would turn out to be one of the best decisions they'd ever made.


	2. Uneasy Youth

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 2**

By Karen Hart

Author's note: After I read the original chapter after I'd submitted it, I realized that it could use some extending. And so, here's chapter 2! Hope you enjoy.

Helmer leaned forward with his elbows resting on his desk, and made a steeple of his fingers. "I see," he said to the man on the screen. "A fitting enough punishment for them, I suppose."

It'd taken six weeks to reach a sentence, six weeks for collection of evidence, to review the case, for counseling selection, for selection of court dates… Six weeks to reach a verdict: a sentence of fifty years to life (whichever ended first) in prison for all those that'd played a major part in the illegal experiments. Harris Biochemical, the pharmaceutical company that had employed these people, would suffer greatly.

The man on the screen, one William Brannhard, attorney, nodded. "Yes, sir. The sentence is already in effect. --To be honest, I'm surprised things went as quickly as they did."

"Oh? I'd think the outcome was pretty obvious from the beginning. We had more than enough evidence, after all," Helmer pointed out.

"Be that as it may, this sort of thing tends to drag on for months. I wonder why they didn't put up much of a fight?"

Helmer chuckled lightly. "Probably because having the two Godwin sisters testify against them throws a wrench into whatever defense they had planned."

Echoing the sound, Brannhard nodded. "You have a good point. Ah, how are they?" It was difficult to feel unconcerned for the two girls.

"I'd say they've been recovering quite well," the soldier replied, and changed the topic.

---

Mary yawned as she made her way into the large kitchen, blue eyes still hazy with sleep. "Morning," she mumbled drowsily to Gaignun and to her sister, both of whom appeared to have been up for quite some time. "Morning," they murmured back at her, Gaignun nodding politely at her, and Shelley smiling softly, something that Mary noticed her sister doing more often of late. Not that she minded. Unbidden, her face mirrored the expression.

"Rubedo's not up yet?" she asked with some surprise. Usually, it was hard for the redhead to stay asleep.

Shelley shook her head. "He snuck out a little while ago, I think."

"I see…" Mary's voice trailed off slowly. _I wonder if he's okay…_

---

_Damn it, it's cold_, Rubedo thought to himself bitterly, drawing his jacket tighter against his small frame, thankful that he'd remembered it at all in his haste to leave the house. He slumped down against the concrete wall of the cul de sac that had been his destination, running his hands through his habitually unkempt hair, and managed to shudder and sigh simultaneously. "Damn it," he hissed aloud, glad no one was there to see him then.

They'd probably tell him not to swear.

Rubedo pulled his knees up against his chest, wrapping thin arms around them. Nightmares again—no, not really nightmares, but the mental eggs from which they came. Wisps of white and purple laughter, the colors of mockery, his own perceived betrayal. He'd forced himself to awareness when he'd realized what was going on, knowing what was about to take place and wanting no part of it, even if he _was_ part of it.

He shook his head. He did _not_ want to think about it.

_But that's why you came here, isn't it?_ A little voice nagged at him from the back of his mind. _To this place specifically._

Shivering, he glanced around at his surroundings. He _had_ chosen this place for a reason.

It was little more than a parking area for delivery vehicles, all gray concrete and faded parking stripes and oil stains. But it was as solitary and out of the way on the base as he could get, and the fact that it couldn't possibly be any more impersonal was a plus in his state of mind. There was nothing to bring his paler twin to mind, nothing reflective to play tricks at the corners of his eyes.

Of course, he didn't really need any of that, did he, when he had himself. He sighed.

_My fault. All mine. No…no! It wasn't supposed to happen like that. They weren't…he wasn't…_ Rubedo's eyes watered over, while his mind refused to finish his thoughts. It hurt too much to address them fully. His throat clenched painfully, and he forced back a sob, wincing at the pain.

He scowled, trying to force the tears away; fourteen was much too old to be crying. _Just don't…don't think about it._ Calm breaths. Deep ones.

A soft touch at the edge of his mind interrupted his thoughts, light and unobtrusive. _Better?_ Nigre—no, Gaignun—his brother had changed his name for reasons Rubedo didn't yet understand—checking in on him.

_A little…_

_Come back when you're ready._ Then Gaignun's voice faded, but the touch did not.

---

Peering over a glass of milk, Mary watched as Gaignun stared intently out the kitchen window, seemingly focused on one particular nondescript building. She swiveled in her chair slightly, trying to see whatever it was that had caught the dark haired teen's attention, but saw nothing but dull grays. She raised one small eyebrow, though he seemed not to notice. Finally, he turned around and faced her.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon."


	3. Steady Push

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 3**

By Karen Hart

Mary kicked the air with her feet, legs too short to reach the floor from her seat, and tried to feel reassured by Gaignun's words, though for reasons she couldn't explain, it was rather difficult. Instead, she concentrated on the breakfast pastry on her plate, and tried not to focus on anything else.

A click interrupted her non-thoughts, followed by a strangely nervous "I'm back." She swiveled about in her seat, brightening when she saw Rubedo standing in the door. His face was smudged, and his eyes looked a little red, but for the most part he seemed all right. So why had he snuck off? Her expression turned to one of light concern. Rubedo seemed not to notice, instead making his (for him, inevitable) way to the fridge, and began rummaging.

He returned to the table, laden with a small mountain of packaged edibles—no one present was any good at cooking, so they made due with ready-made food—and began to eat, while Mary wondered how he could pack _so much_ away. She was having enough trouble with her pastry…

Shelley broke the momentary silence. "We're supposed to start UMN courses today, yes?" Mary grimaced.

Gaignun nodded. "Ah, that's right." He'd almost forgotten about that. "Once Rubedo's done eating we can get you set up."

_A week ago._

_Gaignun sat seemingly transfixed at the computer, green eyes focused on the screen, a state that inspired curiosity in the two sisters that'd only recently moved in with them. They peered over his shoulder, puzzling over the screen's image: row after row of humped or angular symbols, often squished together, and broken here and there by blank spots._

_The black-haired teenager stiffened for a moment, suddenly aware of their proximity. He smiled. "Just something I'm reading for sociology—basically the effects of the Gnosis since their arrival two years ago. Some of it's pretty interesting, like this part here." He pointed to a series of symbols near the top of the screen, only to receive a pair of blank, slightly confused stares. Shelley suddenly felt oddly embarrassed. Mary just stared at the screen._

_Gaignun blinked, absorbing their reaction, his mind trying to wrap itself around the conclusion it came to. "You two—you can't… I mean, you don't know how to read?" For once the eloquence that came so naturally failed him. He couldn't conceive of illiteracy, and from the sudden mental twitch he felt from Rubedo—who was seated on the couch behind them, engrossed in one of Helmer's ancient books—neither could his brother._

_Shelley shook her head. "It wasn't really necessary…" Mary remained silent, letting her older sister do the talking. Gaignun nodded slowly. "I see…"_

"_Hey, Gaignun," Rubedo spoke up. "There are openings for beginner's courses now, aren't there?" Gaignun took a moment to check, and confirmed. "Why don't we enroll 'em?" He put the book down, and moved towards the others. "Shouldn't be too difficult." _

Mary finally found her voice. "Enroll us? What?"

_Rubedo blinked. "Oh. Sorry. Okay, see, this base is too far away from any schools, so we take UMN courses instead. On the one hand, it costs a bit, and it takes time to find instructors for whatever courses you're taking. On the other hand, once everything gets all set up, you can move at your own pace, and things seem to go by faster than in a standard classroom environment." To Shelley and Mary, he suddenly sounded far older than the twelve years he looked. "Anyway, giving it a shot wouldn't hurt."_

_They found no reason to disagree._

Half an hour later, the girls were situated in front of the computer, faces simultaneously anticipatory and apprehensive. Gaignun tapped something out on the touchpad, and a moment later a young, pleasant-faced woman was on the screen. "Welcome to the UMN Decentralized Educational Center. Shelley and Mary Godwin, correct?" The sisters nodded quickly. "I'm Dell Mara, and I'll be helping you with reading and touchpad usage." Dell continued to explain how things would work, Shelley and Mary hanging onto the woman's every word.

Rubedo and Gaignun could already tell this was going to work out quite well.

---

Three hours later the girls took a break, already somewhat drained.

Mary expelled a loud breath. "I'm not used to cramming my head so full of…full of…" She trailed off.

"Information?" Shelley offered.

Mary thought the word over for a moment. "That'll do!" she replied quickly. Who knew sitting in front a screen could end up being so _exhausting?_ She flopped down on the couch, Shelley following suit a moment later. "So tired," Mary mumbled, blue eyes closing.

Shelley nudged her. "Don't fall asleep. We've still got another three hours to go."

Mary groaned.

---

_Damned dirty, scheming bastards,_ Helmer thought as he tossed the flimsy on his desk. Ever since the Conflict, the U-TIC Organization had been…pushing, trying to increase their influence, bit by bit, equipping themselves with hardware no "study group" should actually need. _If they continue like this…_

He stood up and began pacing the room, dark face set in a thoughtful scowl. Given the current situation, the Galaxy Federation couldn't shut down U-TIC—the organization had not actually yet exceeded the bounds of what it was allowed for self-defense—though they were starting to push it—and if the government did attempt to stop them, the repercussions would be _enormous_. Not to mention the fact that the Federation had its collective hands full trying to find ways to deal with the continuing onslaught of attacks by the Gnosis. No, they needed something to keep the U-TIC Organization at bay.

_But what?_

Helmer came to a decision a moment later, and sat back down, reaching to open the UMN phone-line.

This was something Second Miltia should have a hand in.


	4. Progress of Time

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 4**

By Karen Hart

_Crash!_

The sound was preceded by a startled yelp, and followed by a pained moan. Rubedo sighed, and got up, putting the book he'd been reading—one of Louis L'Amour's—not a bad author, he'd have to find some of his others—down on the table. _God I hope she didn't hurt anything,_ he grumbled mentally, and headed for the back door.

Sure enough, Mary was in sitting in front of the big tree in the backyard, hissing against the pain of scrapes and bruises she'd no doubt obtained by falling. "Here, let me take a look," he said comfortingly, and knelt down beside her. There were bloody patches of abraded flesh on her knees and palms, mixed with dirt, but nothing that looked truly serious. And she wasn't crying, he noticed. If she _had_ broken something, he was quite certain that she'd be all but wailing at the top of her lungs. He smiled. "Come on, let's get that cleaned up." She nodded her assent, and let him help her the short distance back to the house, wincing with every step.

Rubedo grinned as he tended to the small blonde's wounds. "So, how far up did you get?"

"Not very," Mary grumbled, looking down in embarrassment. Bad enough she had to fall, worse still for him to know she hadn't made much progress in the climb.

"Eh, you'll get pretty high eventually," he assured her.

In the two years that he'd known her, Mary had started to come out of her shell, becoming more and more willing to try new things. It was rather nice to watch what'd been a shy, scrawny, uncertain little girl growing a sense of confidence. He placed the final bandage on her right knee. "There." She hopped down off of the edge of the sink.

"Thanks," she said. Rubedo just grinned at her.

"So which branch did you slip on anyway?" he asked, teasingly.

"Come on, I'll show you," she huffed, and led him back outside.

Mary pointed to the branch in question—it was the first one available once someone got their footing on the trunk secure, just a few feet over the ground. Or at least, it _had_ been. Now it hung half-broken, suspended largely by splinters. Rubedo's left eyebrow lifted. "At least it was close to the ground. Why'd you go for such a flimsy one anyway?"

"Because it was there," she replied, her peculiar accent emphasizing her annoyance.

For some reason, Rubedo couldn't help but find her irritation amusing, and began laughing.

Mary opened her mouth to yell at him, but finally settled on a glare.

--

"It's really that low?" Gaignun asked, as he skimmed through a flimsy.

"Unfortunately," Helmer replied, frowning. "Since the Foundation's creation, it's been somewhat reliant on the government for funding—but considering that it's peacetime, the government's become far too tightfisted to let go of a single credit. If this continues, the Kukai Foundation might have to disbanded." The frown deepened.

The two of them were in Helmer's new, wastefully spacious office, Gaignun sitting in the comfortable lounge area, Helmer facing the window and staring at the panoramic view of Second Miltia City. It hadn't been long since the former General's appointment as the new Representative, though from the look of things, he was settling into the position fairly well.

Gaignun tossed the flimsy on the table, and leaned back, exhaling. "Perhaps we're going about this the wrong way," the dark-haired sixteen-year-old said, thoughtfully.

"Oh?" Helmer looked back at him.

"We're trying to figure out how to support the Foundation. Perhaps it should support itself," Gaignun said, thoughtfully.

The Second Miltian Representative mulled that over. "You're thinking of it becoming more of a business than a government-run organization?"

"Something like that," Gaignun replied.

"You know, Ni—Gaignun—that could actually work."

Gaignun smirked at the slip. "My name's been changed for over two years. You'd think you'd be used to it by now."

"Sorry." Helmer smiled apologetically. "To me, 'Gaignun' is the cat that Yuriev tolerated. I doubt I'm ever going to get fully accustomed to calling you that."

Gaignun shrugged. "I suppose it's all right." He looked at the timepiece on the wall. "I'd probably better get back home."

"You sound reluctant. Sensing trouble?"

The teenager shook his head. "Not really. But given Rubedo, I can't really help but expect it."

---

A few minutes later found Gaignun stepping out of the lobby into the afternoon sunlight, deep in thought. He knew Helmer had no desire to dissolve the Foundation, that its existence was the best possible way to keep the U-TIC Organization moderately tame. No, there had to be some way to keep the Foundation running. He ran through the idea that'd been forming in his head for the past fifteen minutes or so.

From what he knew, the Foundation itself was a fairly large free-orbital station, and had been, in the days before it'd been taken over to combat U-TIC, hardly more than a supply and storage dock. In fact, there was apparently a wealth of unused space, something he'd gleaned from his conversations with Helmer. Yet given the lack of funding, there wasn't much to be done with the aforementioned space.

So why not make part of it into a business venture? It'd provide a fair amount of jobs, and the unused space could be used for residential purposes. And of course the employees would want amenities, which would lead to more jobs for people to supply those amenities—and where there were jobs, there was profit, which meant funding. It was by no means an instant solution, but—he was certain—it would be a lasting one. He'd talk it over with Rubedo for a while, see what his brother had to say about the whole situation, then get back to Helmer, once the Representative came home.

But all in all, he was quite certain that it would work.


	5. New Arrangements

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 5**

By Karen Hart

A soft, high-pitched _whoosh_ dragged Rubedo's attention back off of the book he'd again been attempting to read; Gaignun was back. He set the rag-eared paperback down, and sat up straighter on the couch. "All right, you've got something on your mind. What's up?" _I can tell even without the link,_ he added mentally.

Gaignun flung himself down next to his brother, and exhaled. "Helmer and I were discussing the Kukai Foundation. It's not doing so well." He related the earlier conversation, including the idea that'd been forming in his head for the past forty-five or so minutes. "It's not guaranteed to work, but I think it's the best bet."

Rubedo thought that over. He was aware of why Gaignun was telling him all of this—for some reason, Gaignun's ideas tended to take a more coherent form when he bounced them off of his older sibling. So he gave the idea another moment's consideration, and decided that it had merit. "So what's Helmer think of the idea?"

"I think he's going to give it some serious thought. I know he doesn't want to shut the Foundation down so soon, since it's been doing fairly well at keeping U-TIC at bay." Gaignun paused a moment. "I suppose the real problem would be who to turn the Foundation over to, though. It's his pet project, more or less."

Rubedo shrugged at that. "In any case, if he's taken the idea seriously, he's probably already planning out how to make it work."

Gaignun smiled. "You're probably right."

---

Shelley idly picked at the touchpad with one hand, her chin resting on the other, as she contemplated the equation on her screen. A moment later she tapped out an answer, and closed the program. With a stretch she swiveled her chair around and stood up. "Done!" The exclamation was reserved, yet triumphant.

"_Finally,"_ Mary muttered. "Didn't think you were gonna take that long with your homework."

The lavender-haired girl groaned. "Hey, wait into you have to deal with these problems." She shook her head in irritation, and changed the subject. "Anyway, whose turn is it to cook tonight? Gaignun's?"

Mary nodded. "Sounds about right. We should probably go help him, shouldn't we?"

"Yes. He's probably going to either want or need it."

---

As it turned out, Gaignun had found something he was able to cook without too much trouble—at least, not as much as he usually had. The girls found him in the kitchen, wiping a bit of tomato juice off of his hands with a disposable towel.

"Whatcha making?" Mary asked, standing on the tips of her toes and peering over the counter. _Black olives, green olives, tomatoes…and what are those other green things?_

"Nachos," Gaignun answered. "Kind of like what we had at that restaurant a couple weeks back."

"Nothing spicy, right?" the young blonde inquired cautiously. She'd taken a bite of the aforementioned dish, only to find it full of hot peppers. Needless to say, she hadn't been too happy about the experience.

Gaignun shook his head. "Nope. The spiciest thing would probably be the green onions, and those aren't really."

Mary sighed in relief. "Good," she said, stretching the word out. "Ah, how much longer?"

"It's almost done, really." Gaignun shrugged. "Just gonna put the toppings on and then wait for Helmer to get back before I toss them in the oven." The same sound that'd alerted Rubedo of his return caught his attention. "Speak of the devil.

---

The five of them grouped around the kitchen table, carefully removing chips off of the baking sheet and paying due compliments to Gaignun after they each took a bite. The black-haired sixteen-year-old grinned in modest embarrassment.

There were a few minutes of industrious silence, as the group proceeded to make a dent in the large meal, before Helmer spoke up, voicing an idea he'd had not long after Gaignun had left his office a couple of hours ago.

"Wait, what?" Rubedo mumbled around a bite of nacho. He swallowed and tried again. "Wait, what was that again?"

Helmer reached for another topping-heavy chip, and gestured with it. "Well, it makes sense, really." He turned to face Gaignun. "You already know a great deal about the Foundation—both of you do, actually. And posing as Soze's son wouldn't be that difficult, really."

"Out of curiosity, just how would we pull it off?" Gaignun asked. "I mean, it's not like anyone ever mentioned Soze Kukai having a son."

Helmer grinned. "Trust me, that won't be a problem. Soze, fictional as he is, is a strange, reclusive man, and it wouldn't be unbelievable that he had a son he never mentioned. I kept him that way on purpose. It's easier to make changes that way."

Gaignun nodded thoughtfully. "And it probably helps that I don't spend _that_ much time in the public eye, given that the five of us live together. That'd be a little more difficult to explain away."

"Actually, it probably wouldn't be that hard," Shelley interjected suddenly.

"Hm?" Rubedo looked at the twelve-year-old girl, confused.

"Well, like Helmer said, it wouldn't be a problem making it seem like you're an estranged son." "Estranged" was her new word for the day. "And people _have_ seen us out in public together, but they don't really know about us living together, do they? Just say that you moved out of your father's house as soon as you had the chance. You don't have to give any huge explanations about how you live. Just enough to make people believe you're who you say." The others blinked at her. Coming from Shelley, that was a speech.

A slow grin spread across Gaignun's face. "You know, you've got a point. And then I can always—" He caught himself just as Rubedo jabbed his elbow into his side, slightly disturbed that he'd considered using his hypnotic abilities after all those years. The girls looked at him quizzically. "Ah, nothing."

Helmer bit into another nacho. "So, you accept the role?" he asked for confirmation.

Gaignun nodded. "Yeah."


	6. Results

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 6**

By Karen Hart

Gaignun stepped through the open airlock of the transport, looking this way and that at the utilitarian station that was the Kukai Foundation. He'd never actually seen it in person, having only seen lasergraph images and heard descriptions from Helmer. It was a dull place of dull gray and brown metals, and too-bright lights, a place that reeked of machine oils and where a cacophony of sound echoed off of the walls.

Roughly a month ago the place that been almost dead, a foundering military supply depot that was scarcely managing to stay afloat. Now, though, it was a rest and repair area for personal and commercial vessels. Ships lined the dock in either direction, some incoming or departing. Men and women decked in the universal orange of mechanics milled about, working or looking for work to do, while civilians swarmed through the area looking for a place to eat and rest, even if what they got wasn't much better than what they'd have had had they stayed aboard. It was the fact that it'd be _different_ that counted.

The Kukai Foundation had gone from near dead to thriving. All in all, it was basically what Gaignun had been hoping for and expecting.

Gaignun made his way down the narrow rampway's soft incline, green eyes casting about for the reason that he'd come here in the first place. It made itself obvious a moment later: a middle-aged man with graying hair and worn clothing was waving him over. Gaignun complied.

"You're Gaignun Kukai, huh?" the man, who introduced himself as Warren McCall, asked, a way of confirmation. Gaignun nodded affably. "Not quite what I was expecting, I'm glad to say." McCall grinned lopsidedly.

"Oh?" One of Gaignun's eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Well, yeah. I hate to say this, but your dad's a grouch. I was afraid it'd be hereditary."

For a moment Gaignun found himself at a loss at McCall's forwardness, and then found himself laughing soundlessly. "I'm happy to say I didn't get much from him," he replied once he gained control of himself again. "So, you wanted to speak with me in person about something?"

McCall nodded. "Yeah. Technically it'd be possible to just tell someone over a comm line, but that'd produce…'iffy' results. Better for someone to see this in person."

Again, Gaignun's eyebrow raised, but he kept silent, letting his facial expression ask the question.

"Come on, I'll show you."

---

A few hundred lightyears away, Rubedo leaned against the back door, eyes focused on his ever-present book of the day, though he saw none of the print. Instead, what he saw was bright lights and dull metals, the result of the mental link between himself and Gaignun. It was odd, riding mental piggyback like this, but he'd been curious (what was the Foundation really like?), worried (neither he nor Gaignun had _ever_ been this far from each other), and he'd had Gaignun's permission.

So far, things seemed to be going fairly well. He watched his brother's reaction to McCall's comment with no small bit of amusement, and relaxed further. Gaignun was all right.

A minute later he gave Gaignun the psychic equivalent of a squeeze on the shoulder and let the link fade to little more than a mental pressure—it was the knowledge itself that the link was active, and that Rubedo or Gaignun could widen it fully at a moment's notice. The link was far too exhausting to maintain indefinitely.

He stared at the words in his book, this time seeing them, but still not really registering them. Thirty seconds later he exhaled and stood up, and headed back into the house. _You be careful, Gaignun,_ he said across the gulf of their minds.

_Of course,_ came the reply.

---

Mary stared quizzically at the screen, blue eyes taking in the number of pages that Shelley had been searching through and the deluge of text on the page her sister was reading at that moment.

"Any luck?" the blonde girl asked.

Absently Shelley played with her braid. "Not really," she answered, haltingly.

A week ago she'd learned about personal searches in her UMN Technology class (a presumptuous name for what was essentially a computer course, but it gave the young students a sense of pride). It'd been mainly focused on finding classmates that'd moved out of the area, but if it could find those people, then maybe…

She'd headed home feeling a strange mixture of hope and betrayal, though the former more than the latter. For two years, she and her sister had lived with Rubedo, Gaignun, and Helmer, and while they were grateful to be with such kind people, the two young sisters couldn't help but feel homesick, even if it was for a home they could barely remember. As the saying still went, blood was thicker than water.

With a huff Shelley slouched in her seat and regarded the data that'd appeared on her screen. For a week she'd been trying to find something or other on her mother, though it had not been an easy search. For one thing, she and Mary had known their parents as "Mom" and "Dad", and had never consciously registered their names, though she was relatively sure that their mother's name was something that started with "Mar". Other than that, and the last name Godwin, she had little to go on. Even so, she'd kept at the search in private—though with her sister's knowledge—trying repeatedly with little luck each time and almost always with similar results.

She squeezed her eyes shut to relieve the strain they were starting to feel. "Maybe one more try…"

---

"I can see what that'd be a problem."

McCall had led Gaignun along the docks, presumably to clarify his requests. It was a slow trek as the two of them slalomed around the ever-increasing pedestrians, McCall occasionally pointing out something he felt was of interest to Gaignun. What Gaignun took clearest note of was a lack of help.

The Kukai Foundation had begun to thrive, yes, but the rate at which people had flocked to it for services was starting to exceed the rate at which people applied for jobs. Droids might have been an answer, but they were a bit costly and could only be programmed to do so much. The Foundation that'd been so recently saved was already seeing trouble; for a moment, Gaignun felt like he was in over his head.

Regardless of how he felt about it, however, he'd still agreed to be a part of this, he reminded himself. _All right, mind. Get to work._


	7. Reflection

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 7**

By Karen Hart

Cold.

Rubedo zipped his jacket and thrust his hands into his pockets, trying to maintain some warmth. He scowled irritably at the sky, eyebrows furrowing. _Why do I always end up leaving the house in crappy weather?_ he grumbled to himself mentally. He kept walking.

It'd been genuinely nice an hour ago, all blue skies and sunlight, almost misleading enough to make him think twice about taking his jacket with him. Now he was grateful he'd bothered to take it after all. He looked upward at the now-gray sky, then back down at the equally drab pavement, weaving now and again around the sparse pedestrian traffic, occasionally muttering a half-formed "sorry" under his breath.

He'd felt somehow trapped lately, and had needed an escape of sorts, so here he was, traipsing through Second Miltia City and trying to ignore the increasing chill. The walk was supposed to calm him down, but instead it seemed only to increase a sense of discontent that'd been building in him for the past few days. After a while he slowed to a stop, and leaned against a scrawny, nearby tree.

_God damn it,_ he swore mentally, in a token attempt to raise his spirits. It helped, marginally. _Maybe I should've just… _A loud impact interrupted his thoughts, and he looked to his left.

"Out!" A thin blonde man was being bodily shoved out of the door of what looked like a convenience store by what was likely an irate employee.

"Hey…! The hell did I do wr--?" The blonde straightened himself up, dusting himself off.

The employee glared with a mix of disdain and malice, and his voice lowered to a growl. "I don't want any _freaks_—" he stressed the word "—working in my store." So, he was the owner, it would seem.

Rubedo twitched furiously, a sudden spark of rage lighting his blue eyes. "Hey, give that guy a bre—"

The store owner turned on him. "Stay the hell out of this kid!" He turned back to the "freak" that he'd been yelling at before "Like I said, you can take your damned 'enhancements' and—what the hell? Didn't I tell you to stay the hell out of this you little idiot?" Rubedo was standing in front of the bewildered uberhuman, with what could only be described as a "death glare" plastered on his young face.

"I said, give him a break."

The owner sneered, and shoved Rubedo aside, eliciting a pained grunt from the redhead. It was a hard shove, hard enough to knock Rubedo to the ground. The red-haired boy looked up, scowling, but said nothing.

"Yeah, you just stay down there, stupid fucking kid." With that—and a quick threat towards the blonde man—he made his way back into the store, muttering a few choice obscenities. Rubedo glared at the man's retreating back.

The short redhead felt a hand on his shoulder. "Huh?" He looked up to see an expression of concern on the uberhuman's face

"You all right?"

Rubedo blinked. "Ah…yeah." He stood up slowly, slightly embarrassed.

"Damn kid, the hell'd you do that for?" The blonde's harsh words were softened by his tone and the look of gratitude on his face.

With a half-shrug Rubedo looked away, then back at the blonde. "…Er, sorry? I just hate that kind of mentality." He scowled, then relaxed when he saw the blonde nod.

"Yeah, I can understand that, believe me. Anyway, thanks for the assist, kid." That said, the man began to walk away, seeming to melt into the slowly increasing foot traffic.

"I'm not a—" Rubedo began to yell in the direction the man had gone, then stopped as he caught sight of something: his reflection, in the store's clear glass door. "…kid," he finished quietly.

What looked at him from the glass _was_ a child, from the wide eyes to short stature to the small, slender limbs. He blinked, the gesture mimicked perfectly by his reflection. With a sigh he closed his eyes to the image, exhaling slowly. He hadn't wanted to face that bitter truth.

_I'm not a kid…_

The assurance didn't work so well just then.

---

"I see." Helmer peered back at the communication screen from where he stood in his private study. Gaignun's face filled the screen. "If it's not one problem it's another. I suppose, though, we should consider this less a problem and more the dangers of things progressing well." The dark skinned Representative smirked slightly.

Gaignun matched the expression. "A good way to think of it," he admitted. "The difficulty will be in finding people willing to work here."

A quizzical expression crossed Helmer's face. "I thought you said it was a decent place."

"I did," came the quick reply, "but it's still dull, and out of the way. A lot of people don't want to relocate to an area they don't think they'll enjoy being in, and given the reputation of most dock and rest colonies…"

"You have a point," Helmer admitted. He made his way back to his seat, a small stack of optical disks clutched in one hand. "Exactly how urgent is this situation?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Gaignun's face. "I'd say it's not quite 'urgent' yet, but enough of an issue to consider before things get out of hand. I might have a talk with Rubedo about this in a while."

"Hoping for some inspiration?" Helmer inquired.

Gaignun smirked again. "You could say that."


	8. Great Minds

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 8**

By Karen Hart

A half an hour later Rubedo found himself heading towards the nearest park, thankful that it was for the most part deserted due to the overcast weather. He made his way to the far end, towards the large wishing fountain, hoping for some further privacy. Thankfully, it too was abandoned.

Rubedo sat on the rim of the fountain, hugging his knees to his chest and trying to ignore the constant spray of water against his side. It'd come as a crushing blow to his ego, that realization that he would never change—was utterly unable to, to be honest. He'd somehow always managed to ignore his own appearance, seeing himself instead as the age he was meant to be. Now, though, he was left with a rather cold, hollow feeling inside.

_What the hell am I going to do about this…?_

---

A small yawn escaped Mary's lips as she pushed herself forward in the swing, feet kicking up small tufts of sand.

Shelley looked at her quizzically from where she sat on her own swing, though she was fairly motionless. "I thought you slept," the older sister commented quietly, violet eyes fixed on the blonde girl.

Mary slowed to a stop, and gave a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I did, sort've. I just couldn't stay asleep for too long. I'm kinda worried…" Her voice trailed off uncertainly and she looked away.

The violet-haired girl blinked at the admission, and grew quiet for a moment until she broke the silence with a soft "About?"

For a while Mary didn't answer, instead choosing to stare at a patch of ground, as though the bits of sand and dirt and grass could help her sort her thoughts. "I don't… Well…" She tried a few more times to put her thoughts to words. Finally, she settled on: "Are things gonna change?" She caught the surprised look on Shelley's face from the corner of her eye. "I mean, Gaignun's gonna be some fake guy's son, and he's gone to that Foundation place…" Again she trailed off.

"And you're not sure what's gonna happen to us, huh?" Shelley inquired softly. May nodded, still facing away. "Maybe we should talk to someone about this," she offered, and stood up. "Come on." With that she took her younger sister's hand, and helped her up.

"We'll talk to Helmer."

---

"You're certain?"

With a soft clank Gaignun set the thin soft drink can down on the low wall, and gave McCall a long look. What the older man had mentioned has surprised him greatly. Most people wouldn't be willing to hire someone that'd gone through "Life Recycling"—McCall, however, had insisted that the Foundation's current residents were fine with the idea.

"Damn right I am," Warren said, nodding his head for emphasis. "It's not like we can be picky anyway, given that things are gonna start booming here pretty soon."

Gaignun quirked an eyebrow. "How can you tell that?"

McCall gave a slight "humph" and grinned. "Well, I've worked on a dozen dock colonies in my time—Athens, Maria, you name it, I've probably been there—and there are a couple rather predictable series of events. One, a colony starts out booming, then the regulars are the only ones you get coming in, and then they stop being all that regular and business starts to die. When someone with my job starts calling everyone who comes to a colony by name, that's when he gets worried. So far, though, I don't recognize even half of the people that come here. I know it's only been a month," he added, raising a hand for forestall a comment from Gaignun, "but believe me, the Foundation's going to get really busy soon."

Gaignun thought the other man's reasoning over, and nodded. "I'll mention it when I get in touch with my father again."

"Glad to hear it. I'm sick of pulling overtime and I haven't even done any yet."

---

Perfect. Now he was cold and partially wet.

Rubedo stood up from where he'd been sitting, scowling as he realized the spray from the fountain had finally soaked through the right side of his clothes, another aggravating condition to deal with in what was already turning out to be a fairly hellish—at least for him—day. _Son of a…_

He flopped down on the grass, suddenly not caring. _I wonder how Gaignun's doing right now._ His thoughts turned towards his dark-haired brother, and the reason that they were, for the first time ever, separated by entire lightyears. Rubedo hoped that there'd be a solution to the imminent employee shortage on the Kukai Foundation, and that Gaignun would be home soon.

_Heh,_ he thought, _maybe they could use that uberhuman I ran into earlier._ It was somewhat surprising that he could already think of that incident with what could be mistaken for humor. A moment later he sat bolt upright at that thought, and tried to reach through the link with Gaignun, with little success. He tried again, a sudden burst of youthful enthusiasm coloring his mental "tone". A frown marred his features when he realized that Gaignun was blocking him. He could tell that Gaignun was simply involved in a conversation and wanted to avoid distractions, but it was still unpleasant.

He decided to wait a few moments before trying again, practically buzzing with the desire to tell his brother about his idea. This time he was quieter, psychically "pressing" at the block to see if it was still there or not. It wasn't. _Hey, Gaignun…_

…_Yes?_

_I know how the Foundation can forestall the employee shortage._ Rubedo quickly explained the idea to his brother. Gaignun twitched mentally. _What is it?_

…_Nothing. I'm just reeling from the coincidence._


	9. Unknown Direction

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 9**

By Karen Hart

"Gaignun!"

The black-haired teenager grinned as Mary and Shelley raced up to him and hugged him affectionately. He returned the gesture readily, grin still plastered on his face. "Missed me, huh?" Gaignun had trouble believing that only two weeks had passed since he'd gone to the Foundation; from the girls' greeting, it seemed like ages. They stood in the middle of the spaceport, a reunited family of sorts.

Mary nodded enthusiastically, her blonde hair bouncing. "Yeah! It's boring without you around to tease." She flashed a smile and let go of him. "Besides, Rubedo's all mope-y without you around."

Gaignun couldn't resist smirking at that. He looked around for his brother. "Where is he, anyway?"

With a sigh Shelley tilted her head back, indicating the direction in which Gaignun should look. Rubedo was a good fifteen feet back, eyes downcast thoughtfully, a subdued expression that Gaignun was surprised to see on the redhead's face. Gaignun raised an eyebrow. It was unlike Rubedo to be so quiet.

_Something wrong…?_ Gaignun inquired telepathically.

…_Tell you later._

"So, did everything go well?" Shelley broke the silence.

A smile crossed Gaignun's face. "Actually, it did." He explained the Foundation's imminent hiring of Life Recycling Variants. "It'll kill several birds with one stone, hopefully. The worker shortage for one. They'll _have_ a place to work—surprising, you'd think they'd have less trouble finding employment—and it'll give the Foundation a good image."

"A good image?" Mary echoed, slightly confused.

For a moment there was silence as Gaignun tried to think of a way to explain the idea. "Well, the Foundation isn't just a military organization anymore. It's pretty much a private business, which means things'll work differently now. Because of that, we've got to make people see the Foundation in s new way. A new image. Basically, 'image' is how people see something and how they feel about it."

Mary nodded. "Ah, I see."

"Anyway, we should probably head home."

---

Helmer leaned back in his seat and regarded the man on the screen. "You really think the rest of the Committee will go along with it?"

It was a young, pale face that stared back at him, expression calm. "It might sound a bit…tyrannical…but it hardly matters. This Act _will_ go through Parliament. I've become quite sick of the current situation and it's about time reparations were made."

The dark skinned representative nodded. "I have to agree with you there, Mr. Wilhelm. But why now?"

Wilhelm permitted himself a small smile. He rather liked this new Representative; most of them didn't bother questioning him, and he found this a refreshing change. "Why did I wait? It was originally thought that it would be enough to simply outlaw Life Recycling. But given the reports, especially the recent ones…"

Helmer nodded slowly in understanding. "I suppose this _is_ the best course of action."

"I believe so," Wilhelm said, a thoughtful look on his face. "I hear your Foundation has been taking steps of its own to deal with these matters."

A quick smile crossed Helmer's features. "I see word gets around quickly."

"It's rather commendable, really. It's still a fledgling organization, is it not? Most wouldn't dare to hire Variants."

Privately Helmer wondered just how much he should say. "Well, given the Kukai Foundation's job situation, it's probably the wisest thing to do."

Another smile crossed Wilhelm's face. "A good point."

---

_So, going to tell me what's up?_

Rubedo blinked in surprise, and stared at Gaignun a long moment. _I thought I said later._

_It is later,_ Gaignun pointed out. _The girls won't notice a mental conversation—they're too distracted._ His green eyes turned in the sisters' direction, taking in the two of them as they leaned up against the window of the cab, identifying landmarks as they sped past. _So, what's going on?_

An awkward silence passed for a while, physically and mentally, before Rubedo attempted an answer. _…it's …I'm not… I won't change, will I, Gaignun?_

_No, I suppose not._ Gaignun's tone was worried.

_You're going to go on and take over the Foundation. We all know that. Mary and Shelley will grow up. But…what happens to me? I'm _not_ going to change. Are things just going to stay like this for me…indefinitely? I don't know if I can take that, Gaignun._

Gaignun absorbed the telepathic outburst thoughtfully. _I doubt things will stay just as they are,_ he responded slowly, giving careful thought to this new situation. _Maybe I'm not the only one here that requires a new identity._

A wary sort of curiosity came over Rubedo_. Have anything in mind?_

_Not really._ A laugh interrupted their thoughts, and the two brothers turned in almost perfect unison to see Mary still plastered against the window, grinning like a fool and trying to hold in her amusement at something they guessed Shelley had said to her. Gaignun turned away, smirking. _But maybe you shouldn't get too worked up about this._

Rubedo frowned. _You're only saying that because you're not in my situation._

_That might be true,_ Gaignun admitted readily enough. _But these things do tend to work out. We'll just need to give this some more thought._

Rubedo smirked, though it was a forced expression. _I suppose you're right, as usual._

Gaignun raised an eyebrow surreptitiously, amusement coloring his mental tone. _I wouldn't know about that,_ he replied.

_Like I believe that._


	10. Imminent Destiny

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 10**

**By Karen Hart**

Helmer made his way across the lobby of the government offices, a news disk clutched tightly in one hand. It would be a long elevator ride to his office, he realized, as the lights indicating the carriage's progress seemed to move at a crawl. After a few long minutes he finally found himself in his office, and breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that there had been few people around to notice his nervousness just then.

He settled himself into the large chair and inserted the disk into a little slot on the desk, and readied himself for a flood of text that would appear. A moment later he rubbed at his eyes with his palm, as though hoping he could change what he saw, and grimaced in frustration. Nothing, of course, had changed.

**Gaignun Kukai—Set to Inherit?**

**Kirsa Morgan**

**KUKAI FOUNDATION—If you've an interest in current events, you've no doubt heard the rumors of wealthy industrialist Soze Kukai's sudden decline. There've been constant rumors surrounding the cause of his health problems, ranging from something as common as age setting in to the abuse of prescription drugs…**

He skimmed ahead a bit, feeling a strange mixture of disgust and amusement. Drug abuse? What inspired this sort of thing, he wondered.

**But what does this spell for Soze's only son? There have been statements made by various parties that 18-year-old Gaignun will most likely inherit his father's financial empire very soon. Some, like Alice Fotane (44), claim that "it's set up too conveniently for Gaignun. There's got to be something going on here."**

Helmer huffed at that, and quickly skimmed to the end before pulling the disk back out.

He had purposely leaked the information that Soze had seemed "under the weather" lately—there was, after all, nothing terribly shocking in the idea of an elderly man falling ill. It was what time _did_ to a body. The rest, however, had been fabricated without his approval. While the Foundation itself was indeed mostly under Gaignun's care, Soze was _his_ creation, and he wanted very much to know why someone else had gone ahead and printed something that was largely untrue, even if that someone was one of his own plants. Exhaling, he punched in Morgan's communications code and leaned back, waiting for the answer. It came after two chimes.

The face that appeared on his screen was tanned and amiable. Brown eyes peered from under thick, dark green bangs, while waves of equally dark hair framed her face. By her appearance alone Kirsa seemed the trustworthy, agreeable type, the sort that invited confessions and confidences. She blinked once at the caller and broke into a grin. "I bet you're furious about that article I posted."

This time it was Helmer's turn to be surprised. "As it so happens, you're right. What prompted you to run that story?" he asked, suddenly feeling slightly more curious than vexed.

"I've been running these stories for you for what, seventeen months, now? I should have an idea of what's going on. Look, that bit about Soze's health? Sure, it's okay as an aside in another story, but we've got to call attention to it now. I mean, we both know that kid of his is going to inherit anyway. He's practically of age already, and we may as well get that all set up. So I run a little something that makes him seem a bit, shall we say, 'shady', and the readers rally to his defense. –Trust me, I know the people who read my articles. This'll work out."

For a comic moment Helmer sat there, attempting over and over again to overcome a sudden onset of speechlessness. "And you neglected to inform me of any of this because…?"

Kirsa grinned. "Because I knew you'd say no."

Helmer's face quirked. "Again, you're right. So, want to tell me if you've got anything else cooked up that I should know about?"

---

Rubedo sat on the edge of the support beam, kicking the air in front of him in boredom. "Should've stayed home," he muttered to himself.

A couple feet away, Gaignun smirked. "Hey, it was your idea to see what's been going on on the Foundation. Not my fault that it's mostly construction."

Tossing a glare in brother's direction, Rubedo jumped off of the beam, grunting as his knees absorbed the shock of his landing. "Can't help it if I'm bored, now can I?" he retorted. "I thought you said there were some interesting things going on here."

Gaignun shrugged. "It depends on what you consider interesting. I saw what this place looked liked two years ago, and this is already a rather drastic change. I'm surprised they've gone along with the idea to build a city in here, much less a lake—" He braced himself.

"A lake?" Suddenly Rubedo's entirely demeanor altered. "How the hell are you gonna pull that off?"

"Well, it's not going to happen overnight, you know, but it'll have its uses both as an attraction and recreation for the residents," Gaignun pointed out.

A thoughtful look crossed Rubedo's features, and the redhead looked up—quite a distance up, given the second growth spurt that Gaignun had undergone not long ago. "You've really become attached to this Foundation, haven't you, Gaignun?" he asked.

Gaignun turned towards his smaller sibling, surprised. "I'd never really thought about it like that, but I suppose I have. It's hard not to, to be honest, when I've put this much effort into it already."

Rubedo closed his eyes, a quick smirk lighting his face before it faded. "I suppose you're right about that. So, when does this all become yours?"

Again, Gaignun was surprised by Rubedo's choice of words. "Mine?" he asked, just managing not to sputter.

"We both know that 'Soze' can't stay around forever. Fake though he is, he's still a geezer. So he'll croak and you'll get the Foundation. What I want to know is, though—what happens when you do? Will you be here permanently?"

Gaignun nodded. "It's likely. I can't see not being here to either help or oversee. It feels sort of weird, because it's not originally _my_ creation, but still…"

"Heh," Rubedo murmured in response. "You have a point, I guess."

---

Shelley settled herself in the booth across from Mary, and set her purse down on the side away from the aisle. She peered up at the waitress that'd seemed to suddenly materialize out of thin air.

"Would either of you two like something to drink? A soda, perhaps?" the waitress—whose nametag said she was MAYUMI—inquired politely. Mary nodded enthusiastically at the word "soda", adding a cheerful "Yes please!" to the gesture, while Shelley ordered an iced tea. Drink orders in hand, Mayumi left the table.

The sisters picked up their menus, idly perusing the choices offered on the thin plastic pages. Mary put hers down and squirmed a bit as she took a look around the establishment. It was a dimly lit place, the décor a combination of real and imitation woods. An extensive bar was situated around ten feet from their booth, and glowing liquor signs hung everywhere. It wasn't the sort of place one would look to find a pair of young girls. Even so, her sister had noticed that the sign had said "Bar and Grill" under the word "IRONMAN", and not just "Bar". So long as there was no alcohol involved, they figured they should've been fine.

A few minutes later Mayumi showed up again, drinks balanced on her tray. "Ready to order?" Moments later she had their meal requests and they had their beverages. Again she departed.

Mary leaned forward. "So, what was so important that you had to get me away from the others?" she asked, blue eyes gleaming with intrigue.

Shelley looked off to one side, considering her words. "It's about Rubedo and Gaignun," she began. "This whole thing isn't good for them."

"You mean," Mary began, "how Gaignun's changed and Rubedo…hasn't?" Her voice lowered on the last word, and she peered to one side as if making sure no one had overheard her.

The older girl nodded. "Exactly. We've got to think of some way to help them."

Mary nodded. "Just wondering, do you have any ideas yet?"

Shelley slumped. "Not a one."

"Don't worry," the younger girl reassured her sister. "We'll think of something."


	11. Solutions

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 11**

By Karen Hart

"Here you go, girls." The waitress's voice interrupted their thoughts, and the two sisters looked up to see Mayumi holding a large tray with their orders. The woman smiled as she set their orders on the table, warning them to be careful of the hot plates. "Will that be all?" The girls nodded and she departed, likely for another table.

There were a few minutes of silence as the girls dug into their meals, the scrape and clank of utensils against ceramic the only sound at their booth. A few minutes later Mary looked up from her pasta. "Hey, Shelley…?"

The lavender-haired girl looked up from her tuna melt. "Hm?"

"Do you think," Mary began slowly, "do you think Rubedo likes being Rubedo?"

Shelley blinked at that, and set her sandwich down. "What do you mean?"

Mary considered her response for a moment. "Well, I just thought that sometimes he's got this…trapped look to him. Like he's caged or something, I don't know. It's just something that occurred to me." She shrugged and dug back into her meal.

It was Shelley's turn to become quiet, though her moment lasted longer as she mulled over her sister's words. She realized that it _was_ true; Rubedo _was_ acting "caged", as Mary had put it. She nodded. "You're probably right." She leaned forward, her voice dropping slightly. "But what do you think it is that's making him feel that way?"

Another bite of the pasta. "Well, first, I think he's sort of jealous of Gaignun." Shelley nodded for Mary to continue. "Gaignun's grown up. He goes out. He's in the…what's that word again? Public. Rubedo's kind of sheltered, I guess. Not many people know about him. He's stuck with his appearance, which makes him different. I figure, maybe he just wants something to be different." Mary exhaled and attacked her food yet again.

Silence reigned once again as the girls pondered over the subject of their conversation.

---

Gaignun leaned against the back of the plush couch and stared expressionlessly at Helmer's image in his new Connection Gear screen. He broke the non-expression by arching an eyebrow. The rather unsettled look on the Representative's face was enough to rattle him internally. "Is something the matter?"

"I have some bad news, Gaignun."

Gaignun took a moment to steel himself against whatever Helmer might have had to tell him. "All right, lay it on me."

"It seems there's been a rise in the U-TIC Organization's activity. So far, it's nothing major, but—"

"—but if it's allowed to continue, we don't know how far it'll escalate or how far they'll try to spread their influence," Gaignun concluded.

Helmer nodded. "That's about it."

"And with the Foundation undergoing changes, U-TIC's got less opposition," Gaignun noted thoughtfully. He was quiet for a short while, considering possible options. "This place—it was originally used as a supply area for government and military vessels, correct? How did that work? Doesn't seem that just keeping someone supplied would keep U-TIC at bay."

"Well," Helmer started, drawing the word out, "there were specific groups that were hired off the record to deal with U-TIC Organization. Publicly they were supposed to halt post-war crimes, but they needed to have resources made available to them. Thus, the Foundation."

Gaignun nodded slowly. "I see. I don't remember seeing any in the construction schematics, but are there weapons built into this place?"

"Of course. It wouldn't do to leave the Foundation defenseless. But why?"

"I just have a half-formed idea in the back of my head. It'll take a while to turn it into something coherent, though. I'll let you kn—" Gaignun broke off the comment as he heard the door's mechanism working, and turned his head to watch Rubedo enter the hotel suite.

The redhead strode into the room at a fast clip and threw himself with characteristic energy onto the couch. "God damn I love this place!" he enthused, as he hurriedly freed a small, rectangular object from it's brown paper wrapping. As Gaignun had half expected, it was a paperback book, slightly tattered, but in good condition nevertheless, with the title _Into the Out Of_ on its cover.

Gaignun smirked at his sibling's antics. "Good to see you back," he commented dryly.

Rubedo blinked and pulled himself away from the book, turning to Gaignun with a confused expression. "What are—oh." He caught sight of Helmer on the screen. "Hey, what's up? From the look on your face, this doesn't look entirely like you were paying Gaignun a social call."

"Perceptive," Helmer replied. "I was telling Gaignun about some possible U-TIC problems." He repeated them for Rubedo's benefit, adding "I'd like to find away to nip this in the bud before things get out of hand."

The book sat forgotten in Rubedo's lap as he too thought over the situation. "Looks like the Foundation's got to work a bit on its defense systems, now."

Helmer nodded. "That's about what we've reached, so far."

---

Dessert arrived not longer after Mary and Shelley had finished their dinners: two small but highly anticipated sundaes. Again there was quiet at the booth, the two girls working to make dents in the sweet concoctions. A moment later Mary twitched slightly, and began to giggle softly. It eventually became something approaching a full blown laugh.

Shelley looked at her sister with confusion. "What's so funny?"

Mary took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. "You were in a different aisle, I think, but remember that store we went to? The one with the really neat displays?" Shelley nodded. "Well, it's just that thinking of Rubedo make me remember something." Mary fell prey to another giggling fit, but tried to continue despite it. "Well, I was standing behind Rubedo and Gaignun when this lady asks Rubedo to move out of her way. So he does, and she tells Gaignun—" a pause for breath "—to keep on eye on his kid."

Shelley joined in the laughter. "Gaignun would've only been around six if Rubedo really was—"

Suddenly both of them stopped laughing, their expressions mirrored as they realized the solution to their problem.

"That's it, isn't it?" Shelley asked, knowing the answer.

Mary nodded. "Yes. Yes it is."


	12. Changing Identity

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 12**

By Karen Hart

"It's a good idea," Helmer commented a half hour later.

Rubedo peered at him through the screen. "You can't be serious. I mean, me—his _kid_? I'm his brother for crying out loud!"

"Well, saying the two of you are brothers would work for _now_," Shelley began. "But let's face it: you don't age," Mary finished.

The redhead glowered at the two sisters, and hopped down from the edge of the table he'd been sitting on. "You know, I'm really damned _sick_ of that. But—the hell—make Gaignun of all people my _dad_? Are you _insane_?"

"They're right, you know," Gaignun spoke up a moment later. "We can just say you're adopted. I'm sure that'd take care of the current age difference."

Mary nodded quietly, head turning between Gaignun and Rubedo. "He's got a point."

Rubedo sighed. "Fine, fine. Like I've got much of a choice here anyway." He grumbled a bit longer.

"Now that that's decided, what should we call you now?" Helmer inquired a moment later.

There was silence throughout the room as the group pondered the question. Then: "What about just…Gaignun, Jr.? Jr. for short, I guess."

Everyone turned to face Mary, who'd posed the answer. Slowly they began to nod in agreement—after all the simplest solutions were often best, though Rubedo was initially hesitant.

"Yeah. I guess that'll do."

---

"Well, he took the idea pretty well, all things considered," Mary commented as she laid in bed that night, and stared up at the hotel ceiling. _Aside from all his outbursts, he didn't put up much resistance,_ she noted inwardly_. Actually, they were sort of cute._ Now, where had _that_ little opinion come from, she wondered.

Shelley tore her eyes away from the UMN screen, and turned half about to face her younger sister. "Hm?"

The blonde rolled over. "You know…Rubedo. Or, I guess we should start calling him Jr. now, huh?"

Shelley nodded, a smile gracing her face. "That'd probably be a good idea."

A moment later Mary pushed herself upright, her eyes falling on a small, white object. It was maybe three or so inches across and slightly oblong, and there was a small series of buttons along one edge. "Hey, is that what I think it is?"

Again, Shelley nodded, this time without the smile. "I know I said I gave up on looking, but…"

"I know," Mary assured her. "After all, it'd be nice to know just where the two of us come from, right? Have you found anything lately?"

Shelley shook her head. "Not really. Just more dead ends. I swear, three-fourths of the information I find is either useless or can no longer be accessed. I'll probably search around tonight for a little while."

"I hope you find something soon," Mary murmured as she rested her chin on her knees.

"Me too."

---

Rubedo—no, he was Jr. now, it was time to discard the old name—leaned back in the softly upholstered chair in the suite's study. "So, just what's involved in changing identities anyway? Anything I should worry about?"

Gaignun looked back at him from where he stood. "I doubt it. There'll be some forging of documents, of course, and you'll have to be…let's call it properly introduced to the public. But nothing to really bother worrying over, as it were."

Jr. breathed a sigh of relief at that. "Good to hear." He'd been dreading forms and stamped documents and all the trappings of a bureaucracy. "And now that that's cleared up, aren't we supposed to do something about the U-TIC?"

A smirk flashed across Gaignun's features. "You're awfully eager to help with the Foundation now."

The youthful redhead matched the expression. "Hey, I'm a Kukai now, right? Besides, it's not like I haven't had a hand in this place before."

"True enough," Gaignun replied.

"So. Foundation. U-TIC. Need for defenses. Wasn't there something about this place already having those?"

Gaignun nodded. "I'll call up the specs. You have something in mind?"

Jr. shook his head. "Nothing concrete. I have to see them before I can come up with any real ideas."

"That's fair, I guess."

A few minutes later they were both huddled in front of another UMN terminal, blueprints of the Kukai Foundation cluttering the screen, though plans describing security measures were at the top of the list. For a while they stared at the images, pondering their next action.

"Hey," Jr. said slowly, as if trying to give his thoughts time to form properly, "do you think any of this stuff is detachable?"

Gaignun looked at his brother in surprise. "I suppose so. But why?"

"Because I think I might have an idea."

---

Fifteen minutes later they were once again speaking with Helmer, who regarded them with no small amount of surprise.

"So, that's about it," Jr. concluded at the end of his explanation. "We won't need to build as much since we can just use the Foundation's propulsion systems, and some of the weaponry."

"But won't that put the Foundation at risk?" the politician inquired.

"Ah, but the Foundation's a _peaceful_ station," Jr. pointed out. "It shouldn't need to run, and it doesn't need the level of weaponry that's currently gathering dust. A ship though—we'd just need one, if we build it right, and we'd still have the option of defense."

Helmer spent a moment thinking that over. "All right. We'll need to get started on it quickly, though. By the way, I don't figure you have any schematics, yet, but any ideas on what we should call it—at least for now?"

The air grew still as the two Kukais pondered the question. A minute later Jr. spoke up.

"This is just temporary, but what about…the _Durandal_?"


	13. Assertive

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 13**

By Karen Hart

Jr. winced as he passed by the Foundation's shipyard, ears offended by the onslaught of noises. The past six months had been a slow blur as he was introduced to the Foundation's residents as Gaignun's adopted son, an announcement that had sparked countless debates, mostly of them logged in tabloids and held over lunches. What they had hoped would stall questions had instead invited a deluge of them.

Yet despite the constant noise, the redhead couldn't help but view the Durandal's progress. It'd been his idea, and he couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit possessive of the craft. He stopped near an orange-garbed mechanic, and coughed to get the man's attention. "So how's it coming?"

The man turned to look at the speaker and grinned. McCall had grayed a fair deal in the past two and a half years since he and Gaignun had met, and had obtained a few new scars, but he was still as amiable as ever. "Hey! Started to think you weren't gonna come by today." He glanced over at the mess of scaffolding and machinery and workers. "I'd say we're about done with the stress tests on the engines and once we get the final design for the hull we can start putting together the lifesupport and various filtration systems. Until then…" He shrugged expressively.

Jr. smirked. "It should be ready fairly soon."

McCall's eyes rolled slightly in mock disbelief. "Yeah, you've said that before."

"Hey, I just want this to be perfect, you know?" Jr. commented in an attempt to defend himself.

"Yeah, I know. Oh! Tell Gaignun he's about to get hit with another bill. Seems the metal shipments got screwed up and they sent double. So, the price bounced."

Jr. sighed, his face contorting in aggravation. "God damn it," he growled under his breath. "All right, I'll let him know. Thanks for the warning."

_Hey, Gaignun, I've got some bad news for you…_

---

"Tell them I'm flatly refuse to pay for their mistake."

"I'm very sorry, sir, but company policy clearly states that—"

Gaignun cut the woman—a realian—off. "From what I can tell, your policy is to first hurt your clients through gross error and then to profit off of them. This is the third time this has occurred, and believe me, this has gotten me very worried. However," he added, his voice softening just slightly, "I'm certain that we can come to some sort of a compromise."

The realian had managed not to recoil in shock, her programming and indeed years of experience at her job effectively steadying her reactions, though her expression turned apprehensive. "I'll speak with one of my superiors. Please wait one moment." That said, she cut the line, her image replaced by Shijima Steel's logo.

_Hey, Gaignun, I've got some bad news for you…_ Jr.'s voice echoed across his mind, the redhead's tone tinged with a combination of worry and regret.

_Would it have anything to do with Shijima's shipment increase? _

_Oh…so you know already._ Gaignun could practically _hear_ Jr. wincing.

_It's currently being taken care of._ But thanks for the warning.

A mental grinned flashed across Jr.'s thoughts. _Hey, thank Warren. He's the one who told me._

_I'll be sure to—one moment._ The logo on the screen flickered and transformed into the image of a gaunt, thin-lipped elderly man. Gaignun ignored the man's openly contemptuous expression.

"So I hear you want to discuss compromises. I really see no reason for it." Scorn colored the man's voice.

_All right, be calm, don't let him use your youth against you,_ Gaignun told himself inwardly. "I assume your secretary has explained the situation adequately?"

The man snorted. "What we've asked is well within our company's policy and contract. Again, I see no need to make an exception, especially not for an upstart—"

_So it comes out…_ "Upstart I may be, but extortionist _I'm_ not—" he paused while the man on the screen _did_ recoil, unlike the realian before him "—and _yes_, our contract _did_ in fact state a clause regarding price increase should this situation arise. However, it was made abundantly clear that such an event would be highly unlikely—and yet we've been in this same situation a total of three times in the past two months." Green eyes narrowed marginally. "Now, I don't particularly enjoy placing blame, but this is starting to look suspicious."

"Fine, fine," the man grumbled. "I'll speak with the company." _If only to shut you up,_ he didn't add.

Gaignun nodded, expression suddenly amiable. "My thanks, Mister…" He trailed off, allowing the older man to fill in the name.

"Ishii." After that, the screen went blank.

---

Not longer after relaying McCall's message to Gaignun, Jr. found himself back at the suite, looking through hull designs and layouts. _Not this one…too bulky. Not that…That'd strike laughter in anyone who saw _that_ approaching. _He sighed and turned his attention away from the program. _Damn it._

He stood up and paced the room, body taught with agitation. _Why_ couldn't he think of a design? A moment later he plopped back into his seat, a gusty sigh escaping his lips_. I didn't think _this_ would be the hard part._

The chime of the hotel's communication system broke through his thoughts, and the screen flared to life. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I felt you should know that someone's on his way to your room," the receptionist informed him. Jr. nodded his understanding and thanks, and the screen darkened once more.

_Who the…?_

Moments later the buzzer sounded, heralding the impromptu visitor's arrival. Jr. strode over to the door, hit the open switch and waited as the door slid up. What it revealed was the last person he expected to see.

"chaos?"


	14. Reactions

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 14**

By Karen Hart

For a moment Jr. stood frozen in surprise, as he stared at a face he'd not seen since in a good six years. Yet despite the time elapsed, the dark-skinned boy looked much the same now as he did back then.

chaos took a step forward, his right hand reaching behind his head in a show of mild embarrassment. "Ah, hi. I heard you and your brother were running things here, so I thought I'd come and say hello."

Another awkward moment passed, before Jr. ushered chaos inside. "Ah, yeah. Nigredo—that is, Gaignun and I, well…" The redhead wasn't entirely sure where to start.

"You don't need to fill me on everything at once," chaos assured him, his words laced with a light chuckle.

Jr. nodded. "You're right. So, what brings you to the Foundation?"

"A small cargo ship, if you really want to know." The two of them smirked at the evasion, knowing it for what it was. "I was in need of transport, and the captain was good enough to oblige." With that, chaos settled himself down in one the suite's plush armchairs and looked up at Jr. "You seem to be doing well enough."

"I guess you could say that." Jr. shrugged, noncommittal. "Some things just seem to've fallen in our lap, so to speak." His voice faded, slightly, as he inwardly went over the events in his life.

chaos raised an eyebrow at Jr.'s tone, but decided against asking, choosing instead to change the subject. "I heard there's some big project going on here."

Jr.'s face lit up, youthful face animated by a sudden surge of enthusiasm. "Yeah, we've been designing a lake of sorts in the middle of the colony."

"Of sorts?" chaos asked, curious about his friend's choice of words.

"Well, we don't expect it to look like an actual natural lake or anything," the redhead clarified slightly, before hopping up. "Come on, I'll show it to you."

---

Transport to the "lake" took the better part of an hour, due partly to the detours caused by the occasional construction crew scattered about the station, but mostly due the station's massive size. The sight of their destination, however, was enough to make the two of them all but forget the trip.

Jr. grinned privately to himself at the look on chaos's face. Spread out before them was something not unlike a massive pool, a good quarter of a mile wide, save for the fact that it was still dry. Machinery and support structures were clearly visible at that point. Tiny specks that could only be work crews milled out, setting paneling or operating the aforementioned machines. It was far from complete, but even then, it was an impressive sight. chaos remained silent, his opinion of the project readily apparent in his expression.

Looking away from the unfinished lake, chaos asked, "What brought this whole thing about?"

Jr. looked upwards a moment in thought. "Well, you know the Foundation was a supply depot?" chaos nodded; it was rhetorical question. "Well, we're trying to move pretty far away from that, into a legitimate colony. And Gaignun looked up a few things on community morale and the like. Seems people that live near water—you know, beaches, lakes, straits, that sort of thing—tend to, I don't know, do better or something like that."

chaos nodded slowly, absorbing Jr.'s answer. "Makes sense."

"Uh-huh."

---

Shelley leaned back in the chair, fingers poised over a touchpad as she regarded the screen with no small amount of apprehension. The library was all but silent, the soft _beep_ of fingers hitting keys and the rustling of pages from the small supply of ancient books were the only things to be heard—those, and her own nervous breathing. Was Gaignun right? Had she been looking in the wrong places? She closed her eyes and thought back to an earlier conversation.

_Gaignun's office was a reflection of the young man that occupied it. It was organized and elegant in a simple, unpretentious way. A small communication screen sat at the center of his desk, not far from where a UMN phone sat in a cradle. Flimsies sat in a triad of shallow trays, stacked to conserve space. Against one way a table was surrounded by a pair of couches, a more informal place to conduct business. A potted tree sat near the large bay window that afforded a rather impressive view of the Kukai Foundation. Yes, one had to admit that it suited the young man nicely._

_The black-haired man sat on one the couches, leaning back and savoring a cup of coffee. "Found anything yet?" He didn't need to clarify._

_Shelley shook her head. "I've been trying to look up everything I can of our mother, but I just keep hitting dead ends."_

_Gaignun paused for another sip before answering. "What about your father?"_

_Another shake. "I really can't remember him too well." Shelley thought for a moment, dredging up half-forgotten memories. "Actually, I think he and Mom divorced just a bit after Mary was born." A frown crossed her features, before she smoothed them back into place. "Maybe I'm just quitting my searches too soon."_

"_That could be it," Gaignun agreed readily enough. "Though…"_

_Shelley leaned forward slightly, curious about what Gaignun would have said. "Yes?"_

"_Just a thought, but—have you considered looking up information on yourselves?" At the stunned look on Shelley's face he continued. "Surely there are birth records floating around the UMN. Parents would be no doubt be listed."_

_For a few seconds Shelley could no nothing but stare at Gaignun in shock before she let out an exasperated sigh. "Why didn't I think of that?" she asked, of no one in particular._

"_Too obvious, perhaps?"_

Her eyes flashed back open, expression suddenly determined. Quickly she tapped out her search criteria, though she paused for a long moment before hitting "execute".

Progress bars flashed in the corner of the screen, visual assurance that the search was taking place. She held her breath without realizing it as she awaited the results. A moment later a pair of words superimposed themselves near the top of the screen, while a list of names appeared just below them.

"Match Found."


	15. Discovery

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 15**

By Karen Hart

It was strangely quiet in Gaignun's office, the sensation made more poignant by the heavy machinery that could be seen not far from the base of the building. Soundproofing had its quirks.

A good two months had passed since Soze Kukai had been confirmed dead of a heart attack, at the age of sixty-three. Within a week Gaignun had taken control of his "father's" empire, quietly settling into his new role. It'd gone better than he'd thought, fully expecting resistance to the idea of an eighteen year old managing director.

He stood at the window, taking in the view that spread out before him. It was a world of metal and plastics, still bare in some places, yet teeming with life, apparent in the specks that raced about to complete their errands. It was the view of a city being born, slowly taking shape.

Turning about to face the desk, he regarded the last few flimsies in the "IN" tray with no small misgivings, before settling back down in the high backed office chair. With a barely audible sigh he returned to the task, dull though it was. Fortunately, they were few and turned out not to need his signature or feedback. Merely notices for things that he either already knew or shouldn't have had to deal with in the first place.

As soon as he'd read through the last flimsy his brother's voice impinged on his mind. _chaos is here,_ Jr. said simply. There was no real need for him to elaborate; even if Gaignun had only met the young man once, it was difficult to forget the occasion.

_Good timing,_ Gaignun responded coolly. _I've only just finished up, here. Where are you?_

The question was met with a mental shrug. _Sector 14. You know, that park near the lake._

Gaignun nodded, the impression of understanding still conveyed through their mental link. _I see._

_So are you going to show up?_ Was that a note of impatience in Jr.'s voice? Amusement colored Gaignun's response to the affirmative.

_Of course._

---

Shelley stared at the screen in mute shock and hope as name after name appeared on the screen. It seemed she and her sister had fairly popular names, though there were only a handful with her particular spelling. Clicking on one, she again held her breath, exhaling when she saw the date of birth, TC 4723. Too old. She clicked again. Again, too old. Another click. This time the age was far too young. She chose another instance of "Shelley Godwin".

The words "Date of Birth: May 22, 4745" all but leapt out at her, not quite enough for confirmation but enough to keep her from looking further. The most basic of physical statistics were listed, from blood type to eye and hair color. She paused uncertainly as she saw "black" under the lattermost subject, and gently fingered her own lavender hair. Yet the date was exactly right, as were the blood type and eye color.

Keeping the page open she narrowed her search for Mary by including her sister's birthyear, the results fewer this time. It didn't take long to find the most likely record, and again she found herself pausing, though this time it was from an increasing feeling of success. Linked with the record was the information on "Shelley Godwin" that she'd been looking at not a minute prior.

With some apprehension she scanned both records, searching for the word "Parents"—or at least something similar.

She found it.

---

"Do you need anything else?"

Mary looked up from her soft drink at the waitress's smiling face. Mayumi, again. Shaking her head, she murmured a quick "No thanks" and turned back to her soda. Silently she stirred the drink with the paper umbrella someone had thoughtfully included. She was the only twelve year old in the Ironman Bar and Grill at the moment, conspicuous among the adults enjoying their lunches.

Mayumi smiled. "You sure? You look like you could use someone to talk to."

The blonde shook her head. "I don't really want to bother…"

"Don't worry about it. It's pretty much my break time, anyway, maybe a couple minutes early," Mayumi assured her. The waitress hopped up onto the nearest barstool and turned to face Mary. "So, why the face?"

For a moment Mary remained silent, wondering whether or not she should confide in the woman sitting next to her. Taking a sip of her soda, she decided to go for it. "Well, it's…I just keep thinking about this guy." Inwardly she cringed at the admission, not noticing the shine in Mayumi's eyes or the slight smile that tugged on the waitress's lips.

"Oh?" Mayumi's expression was curious, but not invasive. She waited for Mary to continue.

Mary nodded. "Uh-huh. I don't know why, either. I mean, I've known him so long…"

"Is he cute?" The smile on Mayumi's face blossomed into a grin at the furious blushing on the young girl's face. Mary nodded, face still bright red. "First crush?"

Mary choked on her soda, in reaction to Mayumi's question. After a few good thumps to her back, she uttered a startled "What?" and looked at the woman with a startled expression on her face.

Mayumi grinned impishly. "You know, where you like a boy as more than just a friend or something. Look, how old are you?"

"I'm twelve, why?"

"Well, given your reaction to my question, and the fact that you're practically stammering all over the place, I'm guessing you don't have much experience with boys." Mayumi's expression turned gentle. "Don't worry to much about it. It's pretty normal for a twelve year old girl to have a crush on someone. Heck, I had one when I was ten."

Mary smiled at Mayumi's rambling, the expression returned. "Thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it." Mayumi looked up at the wall behind the bar and swore lightly. "Back to work for me."

---

Gingerly, Shelley held the thin flimsy between her fingers, staring at the information printed on them, though her eyes refused to make sense of the words. Instead she focused on the images.

They were standard dossier-style profiles, typical throughout the Federation from everything to education to employment. Near the top right of the flimsy an image of a youngish woman with black hair and lavender eyes stared out at Shelley, smile obviously forced. The girl stared back, searching for familiar features. The woman had Mary's round chin, and what reminded Shelley of her own slightly narrow eyes.

Absently Shelley shook her head, and placed the flimsy in the small bag she'd brought with her. Now that she'd found what she'd been looking for—or at least, she thought she had—she wondered how to proceed. Find out where they were? Reintroduce themselves? She shook her head again, deciding against any further action, at least not until she showed her findings to her sister.

She wondered how Mary would react.


	16. Imminent Decisions

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 16**

By Karen Hart

Author's notes: I believe in some areas "shaved ice" is also referred to as "snow cones". For those unfamiliar, it's ice shavings packed into a paper cone and covered in flavored syrups. Quite yummy. Also, cookies if you get the reference at the end.

Also, I'm dedicating this chapter to 100-series.

The park that Jr. mentioned was at that point less of a park and more a large collection of potted plants. On the bare deckplates sat bags of imported soil, stacked one atop another, forming a series of makeshift walls. Various small areas were taped off, seemingly at random. Every once in a while the deckplates seemed to slope either up or down, insinuating what would at one point be hills. A low wall surrounded the area. Like much of the rest of the Kukai Foundation, it was largely incomplete, but with imagination and time the results would be impressive.

As he approached the park Gaignun could see Jr. and chaos perched on the wall, talking animatedly—or at least as much as Jr. was capable, given the large shaved ice cone in his possession, the red-haired boy having developed an affinity for the frozen snacks. An almost habitual smirk played across Gaignun's face at the sight. Between them sat a small datapad.

"chaos, good to see you again."

The silver-haired young man looked up when he heard the greeting, a smile flashing across his face. The last time he'd seen Gaignun, he'd gone by another name. And Gaignun had not been in very good condition. What stood before chaos was the complete antithesis of the boy that he and Canaan had rescued years ago. "Same to you. Jr. and I were just looking over possible hull designs for the _Durandal_."

Gaignun raised an eyebrow, but was mentally interrupted by Jr. before he could comment.

_Hey, the guy knows what we are. And it's not like the Durandal itself is a secret or anything, really._

_You have a point._

"I think we've narrowed the choices down a bit. Want to take a look?" Jr. handed the datapad to his brother, and turned his attention once again to his shaved ice, taking quick bites to prevent it from melting onto his hands.

Setting himself beside the redhead, Gaignun perused the choices, one eyebrow raising as he came across the entry that'd been marked as the most likely choice. It was a long, slender design, tapering to a point at one end like the tip of a sword, with stylized wings near the base. It was also, if he read the dimensions correctly, enormous. _Why does the word 'overcompensation' spring to mind?_ he wondered privately.

Apparently he'd forgotten to shield his thoughts, as Jr. begun to sputter a second later. The sputter quickly became a choking fit, the redhead's body going into spasms as he fought to get some air in his lungs. They subsided after a few thumps against his back from chaos. "You all right?" chaos asked, face concerned.

"Y-yeah." Jr. took a few deep breaths. "Some ice chips must've gone down the wrong pipe." Regaining his composure, he looked sidelong at Gaignun. _God damn you._

_What did I say?_

---

"That's them?" Mary peered at the flimsy that Shelley'd obtained, blue eyes wide with curiosity.

Shelley nodded. "At least, I think it is. They seem to be correct."

Mary rolled over on her bed. They'd returned to their suite once Shelley'd picked her up from the Ironman, feeling the need for privacy. "So, what do we do now? Do we search for them or something?" Mary inquired, unaware that she was voicing her sister's earlier concerns.

Shaking her head, Shelley replied with a soft "I don't know." Perched on her own mattress, she flopped back. "If we do search for them, for real, how would they act? Would they believe us? Would they want us to live with them?" A strangely worried expression crossed both sisters' faces at that idea. "I don't know about you, but I sort of think of Gaignun and Jr. and Helmer as our family now."

"Do we have to decide what to do right now?" Mary asked.

"…I guess not," Shelley answered slowly, though she was already forming her own decision.

---

The glance that Jr. threw at his younger brother did not go unnoticed by chaos, who stored the look for future analysis. He found the URTVs fascinating, a pair of living contradictions. His thoughts were cut off just then as Jr. hopped off of the wall, manner suddenly energetic after the lull in activity. The childlike young man tugged on one of chaos's arms, effectively pulling him down.

Jr. grinned impishly. "Since I don't really have anything that needs doing, I want to show you around the Foundation."

Startled, chaos almost lost his balance completely. "All of it?"

"Well, no. Just the interesting stuff. Like the library and the antique shop and..." Jr.'s voice trailed off as he began walking away, ticking places off on his fingertips.

Bemused, chaos sped up in an attempt to catch up with his young friend. "You mentioned something about an antique shop?"

Gaignun shook his head, moving at a more leisurely pace. "He's just trying for a chance to get a new toy."

"Hey!" Jr. scowled, relenting a moment later. "Well, there is that Peter Lorre disk I want to get."

"Who's that?" chaos thought the name sounded sort of familiar, but was unable to place it.

"He was an actor on Lost Jerusalem. Mostly I go for action, but for some reason I like his work. It's his voice, I think. Reminds me of someone, thought I'm not sure why." Jr. shrugged and continued walking.

"I see."


	17. Settled In

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 17**

By Karen Hart

Author's note: No, chaos isn't going to become a regular part of this story's cast. Sorry about that, chaos fans.

It was silent as Jr. carefully picked his way through the unfinished corridors of the Durandal, carefully moving to avoid the detritus of mechanics. Night had fallen over the Foundation like a blanket, eventually bringing much of the colony to a halt, though some establishments remained open. So he'd found it very easy to sneak into the construction area, when at any other time he might be mistaken for a stray child and told to stay clear.

He sat down on the edge of a piece of heavy machinery, cautiously avoiding anything that looked like a power switch, and let his mind drift for a while, though he retained the good sense to keep Gaignun blocked—not that his thoughts would've disturbed the man any.

It'd been a slightly trying two months since he'd come up with the Durandal's final design. Objections had risen over the idea of a warship being run by a twelve year old boy, though they'd been quelled for the most part by some persuasion from Gaignun and his own blunt personality. Not that it mattered at the moment, though. He'd been rather taken aback when he'd found out the Durandal would take the better part of a year to complete, likely more.

With a yawn he leaned back and stared up at the overhead, eyes starting to remain shut for longer than a blink.

---

"I see you've settled in nicely," Helmer commented to Gaignun, whose image was again fixed to the communication screen in his office. In the background he could see the accouterments of offices the inhabited universe over, a clear sign that Gaignun had taken to his new role. Privately Helmer was glad Gaignun had been able to make the transition, though he admitted to himself that he missed the company.

Gaignun smirked. "It's been interesting. Anyway, what was it that you wanted to speak to me about?"

Helmer straightened slightly, making the change from old friend to politician, his face turning grave. "I don't know if you've heard about this, but there's been some talk about the U-TIC Organization trying to get its hand on the Emulators that Mizrahi left behind."

"Some talk? You mean rumors?"

"Give me more credit than that. This is news I've gotten from a few of my field agents."

Gaignun nodded his understanding. "I see. At the moment we don't have the ability to stop them, as the Foundation isn't mobile at this point. However, I'm fairly sure that they won't be able to collect all of them that quickly."

"You're probably right," Helmer agreed. "However, my warning was less for U-TIC and what they might stir up."

"You mean the Gnosis?"

"Indeed. You'll remember where they were drawn to when they appeared six years ago."

Gaignun's eyes narrowed as he recalled the horrible event. "Towards the Song of Nephilim…and the Original."

"I figured you might want a heads up. I'd be surprised if the commanding members of U-TIC aren't away of the Foundation's current—beg pardon—vulnerability." Helmer's expression was apologetic.

"I appreciate it. I'll see what measures I can come up with." Gaignun's image vanished as the screen thinned itself into nothingness.

---

Despite the lull in activity, the docks were still fairly busy, as incoming traffic rarely showed concern for local hours. Crews and docking techs wandered about in a seeming chaotic order, searching out amenities and work, respectively.

"Yo chaos!" chaos looked upwards from the terminal he'd been servicing, wincing as the dock manager's harsh shout all but echoed off of the deckplates. "How many times do I have to call you? Your shift's over, go home already."

A half smile crossed chaos's face as he returned to the terminal for a final tweak. "I must've lost track of the time."

"Yeah, right," the manager—whose namebadge said he was Chris Russell—grumbled in mock complaint. 'You just want the overtime, admit it."

"Whatever you say," chaos replied with a grin, having gotten used to Russell's comments. Packing up his toolkit, he stopped by the warehouse to drop them off, not without a parting "So how much _do_ you owe me this week?" to Russell.

As he walked to his apartment he reflected over the past couple of months. It'd been rather fascinating watching the two URTVs trying—and succeeding—to run the Foundation, while the general public had no idea about the truth behind the young directors. So he'd decided to find employment on the colony, though he'd been careful to choose an occupation that wouldn't ultimately strand him in one place. And he'd felt the strange need to verify their safety. Perhaps it was simple instinct.

---

Jr. woke a short while later, suddenly aware that he'd dozed off. Rotating a neck gone stiff, he looked around, disoriented for a moment. _That's right. I decided to take a look at the _Durandal_. Damn it, what time is it?_ Bleary-eyed and yawning, he hopped off of the machine. It wouldn't do for someone to catch him napping in a construction zone, no matter what rank he might've held in the Foundation.

As soon as the fog cleared from his mind he heard Gaignun's voice. _I'm glad you're finally awake. We might have a problem on our hands._

Jr. grimaced. _'Might have a problem' as in you're being cautious or 'might have a problem' as in we do have a problem?_

_The former._

_Oh thank god._

_Though it could easily become the latter._

_Damn it!_


	18. New Year's

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 18**

By Karen Hart

Author's note: Feel free to imagine Gaignun wearing as little as you like to bed. U-DO knows I do.

The harsh chirping of the alarm clock roused Gaignun from a light sleep. Groaning, he rolled over and tried to ignore the sound, burying his face in his pillow in an effort to lessen the noise. The sound increased in volume and pitch until the alarm's chirp was an inescapable whine. Finally Gaignun gave in, and after giving the clock a good smack to shut it off, he hauled his body into a siting position, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

A single glance toward the wall and the terminal mounted there revealed he had a new set of messages, no doubt related to the day's upcoming festivities. Yawning he swung his legs over the side of his bed, reaching forward to hit the "read" icon on the screen. As expected, a short series of notices started appearing one after another, most of them last minute approval requests to bring in supplies for various establishments.

Gaignun switched the terminal off, and made his way over to the head and the shower cabinet within, thinking dark thoughts about procrastinators. A few minutes later he stepped out, toweling himself dry before pulling on a pair of black dress slacks and a dark green silk shirt, a fitting enough outfit for the occasion.

Though New Year's Eve was a spectacular event most anywhere in the Galaxy Federation, he anticipated that the holiday would be something else on the Foundation. For weeks the fledgling colony had been quietly preparing for the event, anticipation sparking interest in the small number of tourists that had started to frequent the Foundation.

Yes, he figured, with most of the colony complete, and packed almost to bursting with people, it would be an event to remember.

---

If the park had once been bare and unfinished, it was now lush and inviting in its completion. People wandered aimless through the area, either citizens trying to kill time before evening, or tourists who were awestruck by the park's seemingly natural quality. Yet despite the throngs it seemed to have a secluded feel, which suited Gaignun Kukai, Jr. just fine.

He reclined against a large tree trunk, a hardback novel in his hands, fully absorbed in the story. It was one of those idyllic moments he cherished, when he didn't have to worry about the status of the Foundation or the Durandal, or wonder what U-TIC was up to. There was only himself and the story.

His reverie was cut off by a gruff voice saying "You sure you know where you're going? This doesn't look like the route to any bar I know about."

"Of course." Jr. heard chaos's familiar tenor and closed the book. "Easier to cut through here to get to Sector 26. But, are you sure you want to start drinking this early?"

"Damn right! It's New Year's. Don't you know it's tradition to get hammered?"

"If you say so," chaos replied, sounding unconvinced. The voices fade as the pair moved away, leaving Jr. to wonder about the identity of chaos's companion.

Within moments, he was once more engrossed in his novel.

---

That night the Ironman was filled to capacity. Loud, raucous laughter bounced off of the walls as liquor-induced and often off-color jokes were tossed about. Alcohol splashed in glasses and on tables, those who were legally allowed to drink taking full advantage of the privilege while the underage stayed outside to either watch or help light the fireworks. Whirs and bangs were heard periodically as some sonic plaything was set off. Music played over speakers, though the songs were almost impossible to hear above the celebration.

Mary grinned wide as she stared up at the Foundation's overhead, the gray backside of the solar panels obscured by the designs of the laser lights playing out against them, barely registering the glass that was slipped into her hand by a passing waitress, until she wondered why her hand suddenly felt so cold. The glass was filled with tomato juice, with a slice of lime and a celery stick, for what reason she had no idea.

"You're too young for the vodka just yet, but that's called a Bloody Mary," the waitress said over the din when she caught the girl's quizzical expression. "Don't worry, it's safe!"

Nodding, Mary sipped her drink and smiled, her attention turned to a nearby group of people who were lighting off some of the sonic fireworks, Shelley among them. Momentarily she pondered joining them, making her way to the group as she could think of no reason _not_ to. "Mind if I join?" She had to yell to be heard.

"Not at all!" the man she'd asked shouted back. Within moments she had a handful of friction-induced noisemakers. Setting her cup on the ground, she skidded the little spheres, laughing at the varied results.

"Why aren't you with Jr.?" she heard someone ask, the voice coming from her right. Turning, she realized that it was Mayumi—a rather flushed, drunken Mayumi, who swayed unsteadily on her feet.

"Don't know where he got to!" Mary replied, setting off another firework.

"He's over at the bar, trying to get Caito to let him have a little something to drink." A devilish gleam entered the waitress's eyes. "Who knows, he might've succeeded. I have an idea. Wait here, I'll go see if he's tipsy." With that, she sped off.

---

"So, you're the little twerp chaos mentioned."

Jr. snorted into his drink at that. The man had introduced himself simply as Matthews, claiming in his inebriation that the knowledge of his first name would accompany him to the grave. Matthews was blunt and abrasive. Needless to say, Jr. took an instant liking to him.

"Indeed I am," Jr. admitted, voice slurred just slightly. He _had_ managed to convince the bartender to give him a shot in his soda. Twice. "So what else has he sa—" A cry of "Ten! Nine!" interrupted him. "Shit, the countdown!" He raced toward the door, nearly colliding with a young woman.

"Five!" He joined in as soon as he caught his breath. A moment later Mary joined him, belting out the countdown at the top of her lungs.

"Four! Three! Two!" The laser show slowed down noticeably, seemingly in anticipation.

"O—Eh!" At "One!" Mary leaned over and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. At the same moment, a camera snapped off.

"Happy New Year's!"


	19. Allude to Predation

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 19**

By Karen Hart

Soft beeps and hums punctuated the silence in the security station where chaos sat, his eyes darting back and forth between monitoring equipment and the screen propped against the wall, where the celebration could be seen. He smiled faintly at the display, and tried to suppress a twinge of regret at having agreed to join the skeleton crew working security.

"Wish they'd let us keep an eight-pack or two in here," one of the techs grumbled, a dour man in his thirties who spent more time staring at the screen that at the monitors. "Swear to god, it's New Years and I'm drier than a council meeting in the desert. Hell is up with that?"

chaos looked over his shoulder at the man, a grin splitting his face for one brief moment. "Heh, well, I doubt they'd want anyone spilling drinks in here. Especially not if they were drunk."

The tech—one Thomas Nguyen—groaned audibly at chaos. "Yeah, yeah. How much longer do we have to—what the…?" His attention snapped back to the monitor as a distress signal sounded in the near-empty room, loud and jarring, telltales lighting up like the beginnings of plague. He swore as a male voice sounded over the speakers, quivering slightly.

"This is the tradeship _Miranda_ # # under # attack! Coordinates are DX588, Y#04, Z82#. Please help!" Light static garbled the message.

The next few minutes were mayhem, as the small handful of people in the room rushed about, tracing the origin of the signal and trying to secure an alternate channel to the tradeship. chaos's hands flew over the touchpad as his screen resolved into a three dimensional mockup of the surrounding area for a good thousand lightyears, identifying trade routes and UMN columns leading to the Foundation.

"I got 'em!" someone screamed, voice lowering a second later. "This is Cole Misuda of the Kukai Foundation Security Division. _Miranda_, do not try to engage. I repeat, do not _try_ to engage your attackers. We'll dispatch a rescue team immediately, just get in your escape pods and sit tight."

"_Sit tight!_" chaos could hear the outraged shout from where he sat. "_We're being shot at and you want us to—_"

"_Get in the god damned escape pod!_" Misuda yelled in reply. The line was cut off. "Damn!"

Nguyen sighed. "I hope to god they listened to you."

---

Shock rooted Jr. to the spot, faced flushed bright crimson while the crowds cheered as the overhead display exploded in a cacophony of colors and visual effects. Despite the spectacle, however, Jr. found himself unable to focus on the event, mind gone quite blank after Mary's kiss. Or maybe it the second shot. He thought it was the second shot. A hand clapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, still slightly disoriented. "Looks like you'll be having good luck this year," Caito grinned

"What?" Jr. murmured, blinking in wide-eyed confusion.

The bartender's grinned widened further. "You didn't know? A kiss on New Year's Eve is good luck. I thought you were a smart kid." He laughed as Jr. scowled at him and stalked away, and turned to address the crowds. "_Next round is on the house!_" As the man had expected, the bar was once again packed.

Jr. sat down on a still unopened box of fireworks, and shook his head. "Why did she…?"

"Jr.!" a voice shouted above the din of the masses. "Jr.!" A few seconds later a woman appeared in front of him, breathless and trembling from exertion. She handed him a small headset. "Call…from the security…station." The words came out in short breaths. He nodded, and clipped the set to his right ear.

"Go ahead."

"Jr.," chaos's calm tone was marked with stress. "We got a distress signal from a tradeship nearby. We're sending out a rescue team. Thought you should know."

"Thanks," Jr. replied, sobriety settling in quickly. "I'll inform Gaignun. Let me know if anything else happens."

"All right," chaos agreed, and ended the call.

_I see_, Gaignun replied a moment later. _I should have expected something to mar the occasion._

_How could we have planned for something like this?_ Jr. pointed out. _I'm gonna get in touch with the medical teams, have 'em ready by the time they get here._

_A good idea._

---

Within hours a small crowd had gathered by the docks, mostly medical personnel and security—though a few civilians rubbernecked from a safe distance—all of them watching as a small search and rescue vessel made its way into the available berth. Moments later a pair of adults were led off the ship, towards a group of emergency vehicles.

Jr. pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers. "So just what the hell happened?"

One of the S and R technicians turned half about, startled by the redhead's sudden presence. "Seems like they were in the middle of an ambush."

"I guessed that much," Jr. muttered. "Damn it, this is supposed to be a safe area. Where'd this take place?"

The tech looked towards the overhead a moment in a universal gesture of recollection. "I think it was…just off of the Danae column."

"The hell. That's not part of any trade route leading here. I thought they were on a tradeship?"

"Does your dad know you swear? Heh, all right then. Anyway, apparently they were trying to avoid the normal routes. Maybe they figured traffic would be congested today." The tech shrugged. "Doesn't look like the detour was worth it though. Then again, maybe this'll make people follow proper navigational paths."

"Want to bet?"


	20. Investigation Prelude

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 20**

By Karen Hart

Suppressing a yawn, Jr. made his way into the security station, nodding at personnel glued to their consoles. "Another one?"

chaos looked up from his seat, having taken a rather more permanent post. "Yeah. This'll make the ninth in the past two months. At this rate we won't have an incoming traffic at all."

"Any idea who's behind this?" Jr. plopped down into an empty chair. He yawned. "Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night."

"That's all right. Well, since the attacks have been primarily against vessels registered with the Foundation, I'd lean towards anyone with a grudge. Other than that, I'm not too sure."

Half spinning in his seat, Jr. mulled that over. "And we've already got some enemies, mostly radical groups who've taken offense to our employing variants. Hey, what about the wreckage that was recovered during this last rescue?"

chaos shook his head. "No luck. There were no markings on any of the debris large enough to collect and the background check we did on the bodies didn't turn up much of anything unusual. Some minor criminal records, but nothing much else."

"What kind of crimes?"

"Mostly small time thievery. Some cases of unarmed assault. That's about it."

"Well, hell. There's got to be some way to stop these attacks." Jr. stood up suddenly, restlessness setting in. "Hey, all of these incidents have been occurring near the same area, right?"

chaos nodded, and pulled up a chart on his screen. "Yeah, near the Danae and Cassiope columns." He looked back at Jr., face a mask of concern. "You're thinking of sending someone to investigate?"

"Well, I was thinking of checking things out myself. Hey, I can handle myself," Jr. assured his friend.

"…right."

---

"You want _what?_ Are you people crazy or something?" Matthews's incredulous face stared back at them from one of the comm screen's in Gaignun's office. "The _Lorant_'s just a passenger ship. She's not designed for this sort of thing."

Jr. grinned. "Exactly. If anyone's there, they'll mistake us for prey. Besides, it's not like I'd ask you to take us out there—"

"—us?" chaos interrupted him.

"Yeah, I'm taking you with me," Jr. replied without pausing "—without adding some new equipment."

Matthews thought about that for a moment. "So. You're saying I won't be blind and helpless?"

"Basically," Jr. confirmed.

"And what's in it for me?" the _Lorant_'s captain asked, blunt. At Jr.'s reaction, he added "You didn't think I'd risk life and ship for nothing, did you?"

"All right, all right. We'll pay you half again what you'd get on a normal run."

"Like I'd settled for half. Three times."

"Two times," Jr. said in response to Matthews's bargaining attempt.

"That'll do," Matthews agreed. "Now that that's settled, when do we head out?"

Jr. looked upward in thought. "I'd say in about…seventy-six hours. Hey, don't worry, everything should be equipped by then."

"All right. Sounds like enough time. Call me again when you're ready to leave." Matthews closed the connection.

chaos regarded the space where the screen had been for a long moment. "I have to admit I'm surprised that didn't take more effort."

"Hey, double pay's not bad for someone in transport," Jr. pointed out. "Besides, I'll probably let him keep the upgrades. They'd be a bitch to uninstall anyway. And they're probably worth more."

"You know, I think he was counting on that."

---

Gaignun stared dispassionately at the news feed, the screen displaying footage of the Kukai Foundation's docks, which was also visible from the window, if only just. It'd become a familiar sight, medical technicians leading frightened and shaking survivors to safety, while onlookers stayed behind the barricades that'd been assembled by the security teams. Despite clever editing, he could see news crews swarming against the barrier, a wave of determined and professional curiosity. He muted the feed as the image switched to a smartly dressed young woman, microphone clutched in her hand. Gaignun had been present for the impromptu interview; there was no need to watch it again.

Instead he turned his attention to the UMN phone on his desk, indicator lights flashing urgently as incoming calls were electronically halted—every service on the colony seemed desperate to reach him. He carefully tapped the light to Security, and picked up the receiver. "Any developments?"

"Well, this new group's been patched up pretty well," a male voice responded, "but they're none too steady at the moment. From what I gather, none of these people had any idea who or what attacked them. However, I did find something interesting."

"Oh?" Gaignun prompted the man to continue.

"Uh-huh. Seems like everyone's comm lines were either jammed or all but shut down completely prior to the attacks. So we've been looking up criminal groups that use that particular tactic. Got a few possibles."

"That's good to know. Though, isn't it possible that someone would try to emulate another organization's behavior?" Gaignun inquired.

There was a pause on the other end, explained by the steady click of industry before the man answered. "Oh, there's always that, and it probably does apply in this case. But I figured any leads would be good to know. I'll let you know if I come up with anything more concrete."

"I'd appreciate that." The line went dead.

Setting the receiver back on its cradle, he closed his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. Despite the new information, it felt like there was no progress.

_God, I hope Jr. knows what he's getting himself into._


	21. Insecurity

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 21**

By Karen Hart

Author's note: I've only just realized that I've made a 6 foot tall, 183lb oversight. Fixing it now.

"You sure this is the right area?" Matthews stared through the forward window and saw nothing but tranquil space, no debris or any hint of trouble. They'd come expecting to see bits of wreckage, twisted pieces of hull fragments floating throughout the area. Nothing this calm.

Jr. looked up at him, worry creasing his features. "Yeah. I don't get this. I mean, there've been reports of wreckage every time, and—"

Matthews grunted. "I seriously doubt there's any salvage crew that'd be dumb enough to come out _here_. Then again, there are idiots." He scowled in thought. "Could be that we've missed our target. 'Just off the column' is a little vague."

"True." Jr. nodded, though he was still unconvinced. They _hadn't_ missed their objective. Nervously, he began fingering the gun at his side, an ancient piece that Helmer'd sent him as a gift for his last birthday. Bringing it had been a last minute idea, though he felt strangely reassured by the weapon's presence. "Still, the area has yet to be completely closed off. Advisories don't exactly carry that much force behind 'em."

"Got a point there," Matthews finally admitted. "So, got any ideas?" He leaned forward slightly, looking past Jr. and at chaos, who sat at the far right station. "Anything showing up on those sensors you guys slapped on my ship?"

chaos was quiet a moment before answering, busy double-checking readouts and displays. "So far everything's silent. If none of us knew any better, I'd say there was never anything here."

Jr. shook his head in confusion. "The hell is going on here…?"

---

Gaignun wound his way through the security station, dodging harried staff now and again. He'd been called down there on what the security chief—an Alan Foster—had described as an "urgent situation". He stopped near the front of the room, where the aforementioned security chief stood. "So, what was it you needed to speak to me about?"

Foster took a deep breath and spun his screen about, turning it towards Gaignun. "This."

For a moment Gaignun stared at the screen, a blank scanning readout, before its importance struck him with blinding force. Since the first attack there'd _always_ been something to monitor. "When did this occur?"

"Around twenty minutes ago. Everything just cut out. Normally I wouldn't feel it necessary to inform you of this, but since we've got that communications blackout on that ship we sent…" Foster grimaced.

Gaignun raised an eyebrow. "You're thinking this might be a trap?"

"Could be. All I know is that something's gone wrong here. And I seriously doubt it's instrumentation."

"I see." As a rule, Gaignun didn't swear, though a few choice expletives sprang to mind. He'd have to send Jr. a warning soon. He hoped his brother would heed it.

"Excuse me, sir?" Gaignun turned about at the voice, a young one, and feminine to judge by the tone. He was right. Standing not far away was a young blonde woman, dressed in the blue garb of Security like nearly everyone else present and clutching a flimsy in one hand. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's an incoming call from Vector. It's the CEO." Meaning Wilhelm had—no doubt politely—demanded they track him down. "If you'll follow me…"

"Very well." Gaignun followed the woman into a side room, empty save for a series of consoles against one wall and a communications screen, the incoming light flashing red. She left.

A moment to settle down in one of the seats, and a tap at the button resulted in a white haired young man appearing on the screen. "Mr. Wilhelm. To what do I owe this call?" His tone remained courteous.

Vector's CEO stared back at him, two businessmen gauging each other to the best of their abilities. He decided not to waste any time. "It's been brought to my attention that there's been a series of attacks perpetrated against ships registered with your Foundation. Given my recent investment, I find this most…distressing. Have you made any progress in dealing with this situation?"

Gaignun's face remained neutral, no hint of surprise crossing his features. _Wilhelm_ was distressed, was he? "We've sent out a ship to investigate the scene." He wasn't about to tell the man they were having trouble.

"I see," Wilhelm murmured. They both read between the lines. "Although I'm quite aware that I shouldn't get involved, I've taken it upon myself to send someone to assist you."

_Now_ surprise registered, Gaignun's face freezing in shock for one split second before it relaxed once more. "We appreciate the help."

Wilhelm nodded once, slowly. "Like I said, my investment. He should be arriving soon."

"I'll keep an eye for him."

---

"So what the hell are we supposed to investigate out here?" Matthews's voice was tinged with worry.

"Hell if I know," Jr. muttered, apprehension turning into irritation. He dealt better with anger. "There's got to be _something_ out here." They'd spent the better part of an hour searching for any sign of trouble, finding nothing and growing more agitated by the moment. For one brief, ridiculous moment Jr. likened the situation to the old horror movies he'd watched not long ago. It had that sort of feeling.

His train of thought was interrupted a moment later by a sudden flickering of the bridge's lights. One by one every station shut down completely, with all attempts at restarting them ending in failure. "What the--?"

He got no further before the entire ship was bathed in darkness.


	22. Alarm

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 22**

By Karen Hart

The soft hum of lifesupport systems cut through the silence, fans and filters working off of backup power. Emergency lights came afterwards, a sullen red glow enveloping the bridge. No one had moved, though Jr.'s gun had somehow found its way into his hand.

"What just happened?" the redhead hissed in alarm, his voice a touch too loud for his surroundings. He looked around the bridge, noting that various monitors had started up again, though they flickered slightly, no doubt due to the loss in power.

chaos frantically ran a diagnostic through the _Lorant_'s systems. "I don't know… Power was drained, but the emergency systems are back. We've lost weapons and shielding though. Looks like propulsion is shot, too." He looked up at the others, face gone to ash under his dark complexion. "I think we're stranded."

"Like hell we are," Matthews and Jr. responded in unison. Matthews continued. "Look, something made that happen. Automation, another ship hiding somewhere, I don't know, but there's got to be something here. Don't tell me all that fancy equipment you put on my ship was worthless."

Keys beeped as chaos's hands flew over the touchpad. "I'm not seeing any…wait."

"You got something?" Jr. slowly approached chaos's station, and peered at the screen.

"I'm not really sure," chaos responded slowly. "But it looks like there might be something in that dark spot." He tapped the screen, the image rippling slightly. "That don't quite look natural, does it?"

Matthews hopped out of his seat for a better look. "Yeah, you're right. So what're we going to do about it?"

"Well, we can't blast it with weapons, since those were taken out." Jr. muttered.

"Who says?" Matthews through back at him with a snort. "Are armaments down due to power loss, or were they taken offline completely?"

"Power loss," chaos answered immediately "You think we've got enough power in the emergency generator?"

"We might, if we shut down lifesupport to certain areas." Matthews's expression was grim. "We might have enough for a good shot. Maybe two if we're lucky. All right, cut lifesupport to the cabins , the galley, the mess hall and all of b-deck. Let's see if this works."

All three of them waited in tense silence while chaos did as Matthews had ordered. That silence was broken as all three of them lurched forward, an impact violently rocking the ship. Jr. snarled something appropriately profane as he stumbled into chaos's console, and rubbed his bruised side.

"_NOW WHAT?_"

---

Pandemonium broke out on the Kukai Foundation minutes after Wilhelm's communiqué. _Someone_ had fired a shot on the docks. People raced about mindlessly, having since gone mob. More shots were fired, with probably-innocent civilians taking hits that were meant for unknown assailants. Security teams had been quickly dispatched, though they were not quite enough to cut through the chaos.

Gaignun watched the scene from the security station, arms crossing and uncrossing at regular intervals, his lips pressed together tightly. He paced from one station to the next as though he were some caged creature. "Anything?" he asked tersely.

The tech nearest him shook his head. "Nothing specific. We're thinking snipers, so we've got our people checking vantage points. Whoever's doing this planned well."

"I don't like this," Foster murmured from behind Gaignun. "Too coordinated. A director leaves for an investigation and now this." His eyes narrowed. "Damn it! Acker! Play back all video feeds for Dock 8 for the past hour. I want to know who fired that shot!" Acker murmured a quick affirmative before settling in to his task. "Just what the hell is happening?" Foster asked no one in particular.

---

Yellow eyes stared at the floating bubble that was the Kukai Foundation, deceptively placid despite his briefing. Traffic was still. Communications were silent save for emergency lines, and even those seemed hushed.

He leaned back in his seat, finding something akin to comfort in being back in his craft, and began going through pre-launch checks, the sequence familiar as breathing. He opened a channel to the dropship's bridge. "E.S. Asher, startup sequence complete. Requesting launch."

"Launch confirmed. Since communications were cut we're not sure what's going on down there, so be careful."

"Right," he assured the woman on the other end, tonelessly.

"Good luck."

They let him go.

Canaan savored the brief moment of exhilaration as Asher dropped towards the Foundation, before his suppressor kicked again. A brief look at his displays showed that he was well on target, minutes away from touchdown. He tensed slightly, eyes fixed on his goal. It couldn't be this easy.

It was.

With a soundless clang Asher landed on a thick strut, and he searched for a way in.

---

Alarms sounded in the security station, annoyingly persistent until someone silenced them.

"We've got an unidentified craft on the Foundation's outer hull." E.S. Asher appeared on the main screen, the large craft moving with almost dangerous quickness through the hostile environment.

"That was quick," Gaignun murmured to himself. Had Wilhelm waited until the last possible moment to inform him? "Open a channel; that's an ally out there."

Within seconds Canaan's face replaced Asher's image. Gaignun stared back at him, remembering little about the realian that'd rescued him from Miltia those six or so years ago. "Thinking of sneaking in?"

A humorless smile crossed Canaan's face, a short-lived quirk of the lips. "Comm channels were down. A quiet approach seemed best."

Gaignun's own expression remained fixed. "So I see."


	23. Minor Revelations

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 23**

By Karen Hart

Author's note: My apologies for the time it took to write this chapter. I've been a little lacking in inspiration lately.

The walk from the hanger to the security station was brief and uneventful. Halfway there Gaignun intercepted him, and the two walked side-by-side, somberly discussing the Foundation's current situation.

"You're sure they're connected?" Canaan asked. It never hurt to double-check.

Gaignun nodded, grim. "We've got shots fired on the docks, our ships being picked off one by one, and we're short a director because he's out investigating the ambushes. The timing's too perfect for a coincidence."

"You have a point." They stepped into the security station, bypassing technicians. "So what's my part in this?"

A pause. "Wilhelm didn't give you any orders?"

The realian shook his head. "Just to follow yours."

_Wonderful_, Gaignun thought to himself. "Well, your Asher's overkill in this situation. I don't want you trampling the civilians." He thought the situation over. "One would _think_ we need to find out where the shots were coming from, but…" The barest inklings of an idea came to Gaignun at that moment and he beckoned Foster over.

The security chief raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"What's the casualty rate for the shootings so far?" Gaignun asked without explaining himself. Foster blinked.

"I—well, so far's I know, there haven't been any deaths. Lots of bleeding from shots to places like shoulders and limbs, but no fatal wounds." A worried look passed over his face, followed by grim comprehension. "You don't suppose this whole thing was a—"

"—distraction," Gaignun finished, green eyes narrowing. "Indeed, this whole thing is to take our eyes off our real enemies."

"But where…?" Suddenly the two of them turned as one towards the shipyard, Canaan following their gaze curiously.

"The _Durandal_?" Foster murmured in alarm.

---

There was a kind of subdued din in the Foundation's main hospital, as green and white garbed medics shouted out orders for patients to be moved, drugs to be secured, forms to be signed. Visitors stayed well out of their way, choosing instead to gather in small clumps, speaking in low voices and throwing worried glances as the wounded were carted somewhere beyond sight.

Mary peered out from behind a countertop as another gurney was moved down the hall. She and Shelley had decided to help out by running errands for the hospital staffs, most of it things like fetch and carry jobs and file sorting. "Another one… This is bad, Shelley. This place'll have injured bursting out the windows if this keeps up." She turned to her sister, who was sorting through forms, her eyes turned away from Mary.

"I know," Shelley replied a couple minutes later. "But there's nothing we can do here except help out when we're asked. I'm sure Gaignun and the security teams are doing everything they can to put a stop to this. There's no use in thinking how it'll get worse." She looked at her younger sister and smiled, the expression wavering just slightly. "Let's just do what we can, here."

Mary nodded, her going-on-thirteen year oldface setting in determination. "You're right."

---

Jr. cursed under his breath as he felt along his side for any forming bruises, hissing as he touched sore spots. "Where the hell did that blast come from? Was it from that rippling area?" He looked over at chaos, expectedly.

"Not from what I can tell. Seemed like it came from right behind us." chaos's voice was laced with worry. "And before you ask, I can't spot anything there. Not even that ripple effect."

"Damn it," Jr. hissed. "I don't like this. Get us pointed where they want us and shoot us in the back. And they've got damned good cloaking technology. Just who are we dealing with and what the heck do they want?"

The three of them grew quiet, contemplating the situation. Then: "Well, we can't sit around and do nothing, but after this little development, I'm not so sure firing at that ripple'd be a good idea." At the others' expressions Matthews continued. "Look, that thing might just be a decoy, just this little oddity set up to get our attention. So we waste power firing on it, and we find out it's something completely innocuous, like a piece of hull plating or something. And once we're completely powerless, we get noshed on."

Jr. thought that over for a moment. "So what do we do, fire in the direction that shot came from?"

Matthews shook his head. "Don't know. There's no way for us to know if whatever shot us is still there. For all we know, it could've maneuvered away. If we fire, and miss…well." He shrugged, the gesture more eloquent than anything he might have said.

"One thing that bothers me," chaos spoke up a moment later, "is that we haven't received any communications from them. I mean, shouldn't they be telling us to stand down and wait for boarding or something? It just seems a little weird that they're not saying anything."

"That bugs me too," Jr. murmured in response. "Toying with us? A warning shot? But what the hell are they warning us against?"

chaos regarded his screen blankly, thinking over Jr.'s questions. "Do we really want to know?" He waited as Jr. and Matthews chorused "no thank you" and continued. "We might be able to do something. Maybe if we fired a weak shot in the direction that attack came from, we might hit something."

"And if we don't," Matthews replied, "they'll fire on us again."

"Hopefully," chaos agreed, much to the other's amazement.

"Say _what!_" Jr. stared at chaos.

"Listen, if we manage to hit something aiming for that last shot, great, but if we don't…"

"Yeah, and?" Matthews prodded him impatiently.

"Well, if we miss and they fire on us again, I could use the direction of the blast to pinpoint our enemy's location. But one of us would have to ready to fire the guns at a moment's notice." He nodded at Jr.

"But what if that blast—"

Matthews interrupted. "No, I think he's right. That last blast wasn't meant to hurt this ship. Whoever they are, they don't want us dead. If they did, that wouldn't've been the only shot, believe me. That was 'you're in big trouble, now settle down and don't move,' that's what that was."

Jr. snorted. "Like hell."

"Anyway, let's give it a shot." Matthews settled himself in his seat, nodding Jr. over to the armaments board. Jr. began flipping switches at Matthew's instruction, the weapons coming to life. A moment later he had a target, tracking courtesy of chaos. He held his breath, and fired.

The weakened shot hit nothing, merely continuing on until it dissipated or hit something else. There was no sound on the bridge, breathing suppressed as they waited for the result of their little gamble. It came a moment later, this time from starboard.

"_NOW!_" chaos yelled.

Jr. fired.


	24. Nothing Sacred

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 24**

By Karen Hart

Author's note: Just want to say sorry for the delay of this chapter. I'm having serious computer problems and I have no idea when they're going to be resolved. Also, sorry for the bad quality. I found out I'd be visiting my brother (who has Internet access) so I just cranked something out real quick. Anyway, enjoy.

Mary looked up from her work, the soft _tap tap tap_ of approaching footsteps her only warning before a hand settled on her shoulder. Her head jerked upwards, a startled gasp escaping her lips before she registered exactly who had approached her.

The nurse shook his head at her reaction. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you. Anyway, how're you and your sister holding up?"

She shrugged. "We're fine. Getting a bit tired, but we can hang in there." A quick glance at his nametag revealed that he was "Andy Gennings".

Andy "hmmm"ed for a moment, his features scrunched. "Listen, how about running one more errand and then you and Shelley can lounge around in the cafeteria?" At the distasteful look that crossed her face, he laughed. "Look, I promise the food there's better'n what we give to patients. Just a place to relax for a bit. And it's not like you have to eat there."

Mary nodded, her loose blonde hair bouncing around. "All right, then. As long's we don't have to eat any hospital food, what do you need?"

"Thanks. Anyway, could you pick up the food trays from rooms 301 to 305 and 308 to 312? The people in those rooms got released about an hour ago. We got a new batch of injured a little while ago and we need to clear out what space we can. And thanks again. You two have been an immense help."

Mary straightened, bolstered by the compliment. "It's no problem."

---

At chaos's "_NOW!_", Jr. hit the trigger on the _Lorant_'s little fire control seat, a sudden, bizarrely familiar surge coursing through him before it was shoved down again. A small sphere of energy appeared a moment later through the forward window, several times brighter than what they'd expected, though rapidly appearing to decrease in size as it was propelled towards its destination. Belatedly the three of them turned away from the scene as the sudden flash nearly blinded them.

As one, they turned back to the window, blinking away spots while simultaneously trying to get a lock on what it was they were suddenly looking at. It was a gray, elongate ship, areas of bright orange like the hazard lines of a dockside breaking up the dull color scheme. It was also much, much larger than the little passenger ship they were on.

Two jaws dropped, while the third formed an astonished O. "W-what the hell?" Jr. stammered. "What's a Federation ship doing shooting at us?"

---

"So any idea why you're being attacked in the first place?" Canaan inquired as he walking alongside Gaignun, his own long stride matching the young businessman. They turned a strangely deserted corner, heading for the shipyard.

"One or two. The Foundation was built originally as a depot for vessels opposed to U-TIC. When Jr.—Rubedo—and I took over we changed it mostly to private industry. Apparently there's still some hostility towards this place though."

"I see." Canaan scanned the area, reconnaissance habits kicking in. "So when did this all start?"

Gaignun looked upward, searching through his memory. "About a couple months ago, during the New Year's celebration. I hate to admit it, but they've caught us off guard."

"Careless."

Gaignun suppressed a retort. "Anyway, we're here." They surveyed the shipyard, a curious wasteland of metal beams and heavy machinery, a fine, dust-like powder coating the ground in areas, the scent of machine-oil permeating the air. They registered the silence before they became aware of the series of empty, unfinished hulls, each of them a vibrant shade of red and looking oddly like a gutted battalion of warships.

For a moment neither of them spoke, gold and green eyes taking in the scenery. Canaan broke the silence. "So which one of those is the _Durandal_?"

Gaignun began moving once again. "They all are." At Canaan's blank expression he explained, "The design Jr. came up with was too big to build all at once, so we're having it done in sections."

"I see."

---

Mary leaned against the cart as Shelley loaded another food tray, this one with its meal untouched. "Hmmm, guess they figured the food wouldn't agree with them. That the last one?"

There was a pause as Shelley double-checked, purple eyes matching trays to the rooms they'd come from. "…I think we've missed one." The two of them ran a quick check of the rooms they'd searched, before settling on 311. Within moments they had the elusive tray stacked with the others, and began making their way out of the room.

Suddenly, Mary stopped as she caught a muffled stirring coming from the adjacent bathroom, Shelley almost bumping into her. "Someone's in here?"

The older girl shrugged. "Probably one of the staff cleaning up in there."

"You're probably right." She strode over to the door, knocking twice. "Hey, it's me. Shelley and I are gonna take our break now, okay?"

The stirring ceased.

The two sisters looked at each other uneasily. "Hello?" Mary ventured. "Is anyone there?" Cautiously she turned the latch on the door. If it'd been a janitor in the room, there would've been rather more clattering as toiletries were restocked, mops in buckets banging as they were leaned against the wall. And if there'd simply been someone making use of the facilities, surely they would've received a swift request to leave that person be. So why the silence?

Carefully Mary pushed the door open, Shelley peering over her shoulder, the both of them holding their breath. They saw three things of interest as the door opened fully. The first was the portable communications equipment that littered one side of the counter near the sink, headset, connection gear and UMN phone jumbled together with other things the girls couldn't easily identify. The second thing was the collection of gun cleaning equipment, an assortment of oils and cleaners, long, slender rods covered in stained pieces of cloth.

The third thing was the man sitting on the toilet lid, carefully reassembling a large, black pistol that, even to someone inexperienced with firearms, looked as though it could do serious damage. He looked up at them and smiled, beckoning them closer with a lift of his chin.

"You mind closing the door behind you?"


	25. Entrapment

**Fate of Frailty Chapter 25**

By Karen Hart

There was an eerie silence as Gaignun and Canaan stepped through the opened hatch into what would be the _Durandal_'s bridge—a hatch that should've been sealed tight and guarded constantly. But the guards in question were probably dealing with the dockside shootout. Or shot. That too. Gaignun suppressed a shiver that tried to move down his spine, the word _trap_ repeating in his mind on a loop. There were no sounds, no scuffling of shoes (excepting their own), no soft rattle of chairs being turned, no thump of bodies hitting the consoles as they hid.

"I'm not picking up anything," Canaan muttered a moment later and frowned. "Are you sure we've picked the right place?"

Gaignun said nothing for a moment, too focused on the silence. "Not at all," he said then. "But this place has trap written all over it, so I'm inclined to go in."

"And you came to this conclusion just how exactly?"

A short, humorless laugh escaped Gaignun's lips. "Because I want to know what's going on, and this seems like the most promising route to finding out."

Behind them, the hatch shut.

---

"Thanks for closing the door. Wouldn't want anyone just walking in, you know?" The man went back to assembling the firearm, humming off-key as he worked. "Ah…ah. Let go of the door handle," he admonished when he saw Shelley slowly turning the latch. "I can't very well let you just walk out and report me. –So what're the two of you doing in a head with a shady guy like me?" He asked this with a grin and a rakish wave of the gun.

It was Shelley who answered, her sister shaking too much to form a coherent sentence, though she had trouble keeping her own voice steady. "We were just removing the old food trays from the rooms. We thought maybe you were a janitor and then when we didn't hear anything so we came in and—" Self-preservation made her ramble.

"—and you found me here," the man finished. "You know, that was a pretty big streak of luck, you know that? I mean, what are the chances you'd come across an armed intruder here, on your own? I mean, you should be commended." There was nothing mocking or condescending about his tone, only what seemed like genuine admiration for the girls' discovery. He switched subjects. "So you've been helping out the hospital staff, huh?" They both nodded. "That's real nice of you, you know. I hope they've appreciated all the assistance."

The two of them stared at him, confused and then frightened as he suddenly shot up and, with his left hand shoved Shelley against one wall, bending her arm at a painful angle against her back, and with his right aimed the gun at Mary's head. "I really should clarify—when I said you were really lucky I meant I was really lucky." Shelley struggled against his grip, and whimpered in pain as he bent her arm further. Both girls started to cry. He ignored them.

Suddenly the man loosened his grip on Shelley for one brief moment, taking a step back to bludgeon Mary with the heavy pistol. A split second later he knocked Shelley to the floor, and was holding her face down a second after that. She felt something slip into the slot in her neck, the slot she had forgotten, neglected—and then she saw the Network flashing in front of her eyes.

_Upload in progress…_

---

The silence persisted again after the hatch shut, as unnerving as it'd been before. But they proceeded anyway, but there aren't anything else to do but stand there and imagine what would happen, and that would've been far worse. It wasn't long before they were standing at the far end of the bridge, both of them surveying the area and then turning as one as a single screen came to life.

There was no picture, only static: it was an audio transmission. "_You're a shrewd man, Mr. Kukai. Or Nigredo. Or Unit 669. Whichever name you go by. –Yes, yes, we know about you,_" the voice—a gravelly, male voice—said irritably as Gaignun opened his mouth to speak. "_We know about you and the lies you've been perpetuating against these fine people. Well, I suppose not all of them are fine,_" the man amended, "_but you have lied to them, haven't you, with your whole 'estranged son of an industrialist' scam. It's disgusting, you know that? Typical behavior of a Variant._" They got the impression that the man behind the voice was shaking his head in dismay.

After a moment it seemed as though the voice had quit talking for the time being, and Gaignun deemed it a good opportunity to ask questions. "So why don't you tell us just what you're up to? We're a captive audience." He was glad Jr. wasn't there to hit him in the kidneys for that remark.

The voice grunted in surprise. "_Why would I tell you anything? Don't you think I know a delay tactic when I hear one?_"

Gaignun shrugged, feeling the gesture wasn't wasted at all. _He's probably got a few cameras set up somewhere_, he thought, eyes trailing the overhead. "I just thought that announcing your plans was part of the whole villain itinerary," he answered easily.

"_Villain?_" the voice asked, still in that surprised tone. "_Hardly. After all, I am doing everyone a great service in this. But it does add a certain amount of drama to the moment, doesn't it?_" A chuckle exploded over the speakers for one brief second. "_I always did love that part of a show, where the bad guy started telling everyone all the things he intended to do. Very well!_" At that moment gas started leaking into the room.

"_I suppose I'd better be quick about this._"


End file.
